BtVS: The College Years
by Philip S
Summary: COMPLETED! Buffy and friends have survived High School and are off to college. There is trouble afoot, though, with government-sponsored demon hunters, mystical warriors, and grudge-bearing old soldiers on the loose. *This is my version of Buffy Season 4*
1. Prologue

BtVS - The College Years: Year One - Prologue by Philip S.  
  
Summary: Buffy Summers and her friends have survived high school and are off to college. Apart from dorm problems and snotty professors, though, there are troubles of the more lethal kind. Rating: PG-13 for now Disclaimer: Buffy and associated characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Original characters appearing in this story are copyright Yours Truly.  
  
#  
  
London, England Summer of 1999  
  
"This session of the Watchers Council will now come to order."  
  
Wesley Windham-Pryce stood up straighter, looking at the assembled board in front of him. The seven highest-ranking members of the Council were assembled there, all dressed in immaculate gray suits and with stern looks on their faces.  
  
The remaining members of the Council filled the rest of the room, though they were here mostly as observers. These were the Watchers who performed the more mundane tasks for the Council. Collection and analyzing information and lore, trying to make sense of prophecies, finding and training potential Slayers. Wesley had been one of them until about half a year ago. Then he had been given the greatest honor one could possibly bestow upon a Watcher. He had been made the Watcher of the Slayer.  
  
Now he was here to face judgement for that all too short part of his life.  
  
He let his eyes sweep across the seven members of the board. Quentin Travers presence was not a surprise. The older Watcher was the one most involved with the handling of the Slayer. He had been the one to select Wesley for the job. He was the second-highest ranking member of the Council and his expression did not bode all too well for the fate of one Wesley Windham-Pryce.  
  
He gave but brief looks to five of the other board members. They were, respectively, the head of research, divination, training, special operations, and recruitment. Though all of them would hold a vote in his judgement he was not really concerned with them. No matter what the letter of the law said, he knew that his fate rested in the hands of Travers, his direct superior, and the final member of the board.  
  
His eyes met those of Dame Henrietta Cleary, current leader of the Watchers Council, but was unable to read anything in her face.  
  
"Wesley Windham-Pryce," Travers addressed him. "The following charges have been laid against you. Failure in your assignment of guiding and training the two Vampire Slayers, Buffy Summers and Faith Capriss. Said failure resulting in the former rejecting the leadership of the Council and the latter changing sides to work against our cause."  
  
Wesley almost winced hearing the charges, but he had expected nothing less. Things had not gone the Council's way lately and someone had to pay for it. He had actually considered not returning to England after his dismissal from Sunnydale, knowing that his welcome would not be a warm one. His career as a Watcher was at an end, there was little doubt about that.  
  
Still, maybe his time in Sunnydale actually had managed to change him a bit. The old Wesley would have accepted whatever judgement the Council decided on, thanked them for being so lenient (whether they actually were or not), and left the room with his tail between his legs.  
  
Though he found his knees being a bit unsteady he fully intended not to do any of these things.  
  
"Is there anything you want to say in your defense?" Travers asked. From the look on his face he did not expect Wesley to make use of that opportunity.  
  
"Actually I do," he simply said, surprising almost everyone.  
  
Travers hesitated a moment, then motioned for him to say his piece.  
  
"I will be the first to admit," Wesley began, "that I made my share of mistakes in Sunnydale. And it is also true that I share part of the blame for the things that have happened. I do not, however, intend to burden all of it on my own shoulders."  
  
He had practiced this speech quite a few times and hoped that he managed to sound as firm as he did on that video recording he had made of himself to see how it came across.  
  
"It was Mr. Travers decision to remove Rupert Giles as Ms. Summers' Watcher for being too close to her. He removed the person that Ms. Summers' regarded as her mentor, maybe even a father-figure. If any of you expected her to just accept this and happily take orders from the new Watcher then thrust upon her I must believe that no one here ever read a single report that Mr. Giles wrote about this girl."  
  
Wesley received quite a few angry stares and felt sweat break out on his brow, but he continued. His career was over anyway. The least he could do was make a good exit.  
  
"Upon learning of Ms. Capriss' accidental killing of a human being it was the Council that decided that she should be brought in for punitive measures. In hindsight I believe that was the single worst thing we could have done at that moment. I regret that I did not see it then, for it pushed her into the arms of our enemy."  
  
Quite a few murmurs went through the rows of the Watchers, but Wesley continued without paying attention to them. He had to force himself to slow down, as he wanted the words out as quickly as possible so he could be gone from here.  
  
"Then, for what I believe was the first time ever, Ms. Summers asked this Council for help in curing the man she loved."  
  
"A vampire," one of the Watchers hissed.  
  
"A vampire, yes," Wesley nodded, "though I might want to add that this vampire has done more to further our cause then most of the people assembled in this room here today."  
  
Had he really just said that? Was he insane? He had promised himself not to bring up the topic of Angel any more than absolutely necessary, knowing how the Council regarded Buffy's relationship with the creature. Somehow the disdain he had heard in that single Watcher's voice, a man who had probably never faced any vampire or demon in the flesh, had overridden his common sense for a moment.  
  
"However distasteful the Council might find the Slayer's bond with that vampire," Wesley quickly went on, hoping to silence most of the angry voices before he was completely cut off, "the fact of the matter is that this bond exists and that it is quite strong. Considering the low opinion Ms. Summers had of this Council at that point it is a testament to her devotion towards Angel that she asked for our assistance in the first place."  
  
He looked at Travers, the man who had called him back that day to tell him that the Council had no intention of helping Angel.  
  
"We slapped her in the face that day," Wesley concluded. "We told her that her personal feelings did not matter to us in the slightest. That we considered the man she loved nothing but a worthless animal beneath our notice. Actually I am quite surprised that she simply informed me of her quitting the Council instead of slugging me."  
  
His palms were wet and he felt a drop of sweat rolling down his forehead, but Wesley kept himself rigid. He would get this over with.  
  
"As I said, I share part of the blame for the things that occurred. It is my belief, though, that the largest part of it lies with this Council, our outdated views on how the Slayer should be guided, and the frightening lack of compassion I have come to recognize among our ranks."  
  
Having said that Wesley took a deep breath and walked back to his chair, dropping into it with great relief.  
  
"I now await your judgement," he added as an afterthought.  
  
#  
  
Several hours later Quentin Travers and James Howell, head of research, sat in the study of Dame Cleary, each of them nursing a cup of tea.  
  
"He might have had a point," Dame Cleary said completely out of the blue.  
  
Both Travers and Howell looked up, startled. Wesley Windham-Pryce had been fired from the Council shortly after delivering his preposterous speech. The three senior members were here now to discuss what to do about Buffy Summers and Faith Capriss.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Howell said, not sure he had understood her correctly.  
  
"I said he might have had a point, James," Dame Cleary repeated. "Maybe we have become set in our ways."  
  
"Surely that young fool's words did not bespell you, Henrietta. Our troubles have started with that girl, Buffy Summers, and will end once another Slayer is called in her stead."  
  
Dame Cleary gave Travers a stare that sent a shiver down his spine.  
  
"I do not like where you seem to be going with this, Quentin, so I would ask you to abandon that train of thoughts right this moment."  
  
Taking a sip from her tea cup, she continued, "Our troubles may have started with her, I agree, but that does not necessarily mean that she is the cause of them. There is also the oft-ignored fact that Ms. Summers has the most impressive track record of any Slayer within the last thousand years."  
  
"Imagine how great she could be if only she would obey our orders," James said wistfully.  
  
"Or maybe she has become what she is precisely because of her independent nature."  
  
Howell and Travers both gasped.  
  
"You can't honestly mean ..."  
  
"Let us finish this discussion at another time, gentlemen," Dame Cleary interrupted them. "For the moment it is enough to know that Ms. Summers will undoubtedly continue in her duties, even without our guidance. The most pressing questions at this moment are what to do about Ms. Capriss and the Council's current lack of a supernatural agent."  
  
"You know my views on what to do about Capriss," Travers said darkly.  
  
"Yes, I know them. And I will remind you again that this is not our way, Quentin. We serve the light and evil done with good intent is still evil."  
  
"Our two problems are tied together, though, are they not?" Howell asked. "The Council is without a Slayer and as long as Faith Capriss lives there will not be a new Slayer called. Ms. Summers has died once already, her replacement has already served and perished. Capriss' demise is the only option for us."  
  
Dame Cleary sighed deeply, feeling her age. "I am very aware of this, James, and it is an option we will bear in mind. You should also consider the fact, though, that any new Slayer called after Capriss' death will take years until she is anywhere near the level that Summers currently is. And you know better than anyone, James, that those are years we might not have."  
  
Howell nodded. It had been him who had presented the prophecies to Dame Cleary, after all.  
  
"We know that something big is going to happen, gentlemen, and it is going to happen soon. We have maybe a year or two, but no more."  
  
"All the more reason to act now," Travers mumbled.  
  
"And act we shall, Quentin. But not in a way that will lead us down the path to darkness. No, there is another alternative."  
  
Puzzled frowns appeared on both men's faces.  
  
"I am talking about the Huntsman."  
  
And even Quentin Travers, who firmly believed that, in the war of light against dark, the ends justified the means, paled when he heard Dame Cleary mention that name.  
  
END PROLOGUE 


	2. On the Healing Properties of Ice Cream

Part 1: On the Healing Properties of Ice Cream  
  
#  
  
Buffy and Willow sat huddled together on Willow's bed and stared at the little TV screen in front of them, a big pot if ice cream between them. They had turned off all the lights in their dorm room, the only illumination coming from the TV and the latest video they were watching there.  
  
Truth to tell Buffy had long lost track of what movie they were watching and what might be happening to its heroes and villains. Her thoughts kept turning elsewhere, moving to things she really did not want to think about. Not that her mind seemed to care.  
  
She should be happy, should she not? She had survived High School despite everything Snyder, the Mayor, and hundreds of demons and vampires had done to prevent that from happening. She had graduated and gone to college where she was now bunking with her best friend instead of the fiendish demon girl that ironed her jeans. A new life was beginning and it should be great, a big adventure, whatever.  
  
Only everything in her new life seemed to go wrong as of late. Hell, she might as well be honest with herself. Things had been wrong ever since Graduation night when the man she loved had left her standing amongst the smoke and ruins of Sunnydale High, all for her own good. Sometimes she almost laughed at how incredibly cliched it all sounded. Dramatic exit of the lover, leaving behind the heartbroken lass. Only it was not funny at all. It hurt too much to be.  
  
She had tried to forget. Had tried to do what he wanted her to do. Find a normal life, find someone who could walk in the sun with her, have picnics in the park, all that stuff he had seemed to regard as so incredibly important for a good relationship. Now she did let out a chuckle, remembering how that had turned out. She had been so desperate to prove to him, and probably to herself as well, that she could have a normal relationship that it led her into the arms of that jerk Parker.  
  
How could she have been so incredibly stupid to fall for his cheesy lines and sleep with him? How could she have been so stupid afterwards, even to the point of asking him if *she* had done something wrong. Spike had been right to laugh at her that day, she admitted. The mighty Slayer of the undead had behaved like a stupid little school girl.  
  
Buffy looked over at her best friend, who was staring at the screen with eyes still red and puffy from crying. Just when things had seemed to go a little better for once the whole thing with Oz had happened. Oh, she was just too well aware of how very much Willow's situation now resembled her own. Granted, Angel had not cheated on her with another vampire as Oz had done with a fellow werewolf, but both of them had left town because they thought they were not good enough for their girlfriends, too dangerous to be around.  
  
It had only been a few days for Willow and her best friend was hurting. Buffy well remembered how much it had hurt when Angel had told her he would leave. How it felt as if someone was tearing her heart out of her chest, as if she could not breathe anymore. It had taken her most of the long, lonely summer to get past the hurt and arrive at the conclusion that the only thing she could do was exactly what Angel wanted her to do. Go on with her life, try to find some pieces of normalcy among the dangers and battles. No matter how much she just wanted to curl up and die.  
  
"I'm sorry, Buffy," Willow suddenly mumbled.  
  
"Uh?"  
  
"I said I'm sorry."  
  
"Willow, what do you have to be sorry about?"  
  
The redhead turned to look at her. "I ... I was such a bitch. All summer I tried to make you get over Angel by telling you to go out with someone else, to start over with a new guy. I ... I couldn't imagine how much it hurt and ..."  
  
"Willow," Buffy interrupted her, "you don't have to feel sorry about that. Yes, it hurt terribly, but sooner or later I will have to get over it. You were right to tell me to move on."  
  
As an afterthought she added, "only maybe you should have waited another month or two."  
  
Willow laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. "I can't even imagine that it will ever stop hurting. I loved Oz so much and he just ... he just up and left. Even sent for his stuff without telling me and ..."  
  
Buffy took her best friend into a hug and held while she cried again. She remembered very well how that felt. The first few days after Angel left had been an endless crying fest, at least once the numbness finally faded and realization that he was really gone finally set in. He had been part of her life for so long and somehow his leaving on his own was even worse than when he had been in Hell. At least then she had known that he still loved her, still wanted to be with her, only he could not.  
  
Now, though, now she had to wrap her mind around the fact that he did not want to be with her. No, she corrected herself. She was not that much of a blonde. She knew that Angel wanted to be with her, just thought that he should not. The threat of Angelus' return, his own overwhelming guilt ... well, her friends probably had not helped much, either. Except maybe for Willow none of them had ever gotten over the events of that dreadful year when Angel had turned against them. Some of them had never even tried.  
  
She shook her head, chasing the gloomy thoughts away. This was not about Angel and her. This was about Willow and Oz. Her best friend needed her right now and she would be there for her. A sad smile appeared on her lips when she realized that, sooner or later, she would have to give Willow the same advice her best friend had given her. Find someone new. Get over it. You can not spend your life with a memory.  
  
It did not help that she still did not have even the slightest idea how to accomplish that little miracle for herself.  
  
#  
  
James Howell took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow and looked at the huge stone door in front of him. The workers had needed over two days to completely unearth it and that had been the easiest part of this project.  
  
He breathed in deep, telling himself over and over again that they were doing the right thing here. Dark times were coming, the prophecies said so. He himself had translated them and was certain that he had made no mistake, had not misinterpreted anything. The forces of light would need every edge they could get.  
  
Having two Slayers around had been a great bonus, but now that one of them was out of commission (which was still better than having her work for the other side, he guessed) and the other, though still on the right path, fighting her battles independent from them, they needed a new edge.  
  
Some days Howell wished that he had never read all the sealed records pertaining to the entity known as the Huntsman. It fell into his responsibility, of course, as the Council's head of research. For many generations only the head of the Council and the head of research had been privy to this information.  
  
This circle had grown only recently to include Quentin Travers, current head of operations. The unique situation of having two Slayers at the same time had been discussed and researched vividly, which had, inevitably, led them to consider the possible interconnections with the Huntsman. Adding yet another complication to what was already a volatile situation.  
  
Howell had spoken against activating the Huntsman. Interestingly enough so had Travers. Granted, his alternative plan of action would have included the cold-blooded termination of the girl Faith Capriss, but maybe it was precisely the fact that such a pragmatic man as him was opposed to this course of action as well that made Howell more certain than ever that this was a very bad idea.  
  
Dame Cleary did not think so, though, and hers was the final word on this matter. They needed a new supernatural agent for the upcoming battles and they needed it now, while they had still time to train it. Howell had read the records pertaining to the Huntsman and knew that, under ideal circumstances, the Huntsman could be a tremendous asset to the Council and the side of light as a whole.  
  
He just doubted that these were anywhere close to ideal circumstances.  
  
"We have finished clearing the doorway," one of the workers informed him.  
  
"Very well. Tell the mages they can begin whenever they are ready."  
  
Howell turned his eyes back to the doorway in front of him. Huge and imposing, the black stone seemed impervious to the ravages of time. Its obsidian surface was covered with runes and symbols. Howell knew them all, of course, had spent the last few weeks researching them. How to break them.  
  
Protection spells. Guardian runes. Ancient magic serving but one purpose. Making sure that the entity imprisoned behind the stone would never be able to break out. Unless, of course, those that had imprisoned it in the first place wanted it to.  
  
Howell knew the story inside out by now. It had been the Watchers who had set this stone in its place, who had covered it with runes and spells to make it solid enough to withstand anyone or anything that tried to break it. Being who they were, though, they had also left a loophole. A way to break the spells. It was not easy. It required a whole lot of magic and intricate knowledge of the spells. The Council had both, of course.  
  
Closing his eyes, Howell turned away from the door. Soon the mages would begin the complicated procedure of breaking the spells and unlocking this door. If all went according to plan they would be able to open it in about another two days.  
  
Then the Huntsman would walk the Earth once more and Howell just prayed that they were doing the right thing here.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	3. Cans Full of Bloodthirsty Worms

Part 2: Cans Full of Bloodthirsty Worms  
  
#  
  
Riley Finn looked across the lecture hall until his eyes found the tiny blonde who had almost given him a concussion the first time they had met. Buffy Summers, he thought with a smile. Having met her was just about the only good thing about this entire cover story.  
  
Working as a TA for a psychology professor. Well, he guessed there were worse assignments, he just had trouble thinking of one. College had been fun when he had been one of the students, but now? Grading papers in his spare time was not why he had signed up with the service, truth be told.  
  
Again he found his eyes trailing towards Buffy. Bad idea, Riley! Bad idea! First rule of undercover assignments: No fooling around with the ladies unless it was part of the job. His first trainer at the academy had told him to forget about all that James Bond stuff. Still, looking could not hurt anyone, could it?  
  
The lecture passed with agonizing slowness and Riley had to force himself to pay attention. He had majored in psychology but two years ago and been recruited right out of college, so most of what Professor Walsh was teaching fell under old news for him. Unfortunately the woman was also a major bitch, which meant more work for him. He could not really blame the students for rather approaching him with questions than her.  
  
Too bad Buffy never seemed to have much in the way of questions. Stop that, Riley!  
  
Needing something to occupy his thoughts with he thought back to the first time he had set foot in Sunnydale.  
  
#  
  
Riley Finn got out of his car and took a seat at the coffee house, ordering absentmindedly. His eyes moved across the room, checking out the other occupants. Odds were his contact was not here yet, as he had arrived about an hour early to check out the surroundings. From what he had seen on his drive into town Sunnydale was a perfectly ordinary place, except for some strange details.  
  
He had never seen a town with so many churches and cemeteries before.  
  
The preliminary information he had received before coming here read like a fantasy novel and he was not sure he believed any of it. Oh, the facts had checked out so far. The long-time Mayor of this town, one Richard Wilkins, had indeed died in the explosion of Sunnydale High School about two months earlier. It was also true that a lot of the people present had told rather strange stories about everything, though most of them had retracted their statements a week or two later, saying that they must have been confused or something.  
  
His train of thoughts was interrupted when a man in a gray suit entered the coffee house. He was tall, maybe taller than Riley himself, and though he smiled his eyes held a coldness that Riley recognized from some of his trainers. Long time in the field, that one.  
  
The man walked toward him and took a seat.  
  
"Welcome to Sunnydale, Mr. Finn," he said. "How do you like your new home so far?"  
  
"I haven't seen much of it yet, Mr. Burke. Mainly the churches and cemeteries."  
  
The man who would be his boss for the foreseeable future smiled.  
  
"I believe you will see much more of those in the months to come. You have been briefed on why we are here, I trust?"  
  
"I have been. Though I must admit that much of it sounds rather ..."  
  
"... like something a fantasy novelist would come up with? I agree with you, I did not believe any of it at first, either."  
  
Burke ordered a coffee for himself before he went on.  
  
"Believe me, Finn, everything you have been told is true. If anything the initial briefing documents are understated."  
  
Riley frowned. "If that is so, then why has no one ever noticed anything before? The death rate in this town must be enormous and yet the public records all say ..."  
  
"We have the late Mr. Wilkins to thank for that. Unfortunately many of his personal records were destroyed after his death, probably by his followers, but we have recovered enough to get a rough picture. Apparently he has been keeping this town under wraps for a long, long time. Did a pretty good job to keep it off the federal radar. Hell, half the public records don't even know that a town called Sunnydale existed until a few months ago."  
  
His coffee arrived and Burke took a sip.  
  
"After his death, though, it all fell apart. Our Los Angeles office was the first to notice and within a month a full-scale investigation was launched. What we found ... well, it scared even the most hardened of us. That is why you are here now."  
  
Riley shivered. He had read the briefing documents, but only now, seeing the look in Burke's eyes, did he start to believe. And it scared him.  
  
"For some reason we have yet to figure out," Burke continued, "this little town attracts creatures that, until two months ago, we all thought did not exist outside the fairy tales, Finn. The president himself has taken an interest in this and the whole matter is classified ten levels above top secret, you understand me?"  
  
"I know the procedure, Mr. Burke, and I have signed all the forms."  
  
"Sorry, I did not want to question you. Despite your youth you are one of the best agents we have, that is why you are here. We are still in the process of putting this operation together. Our budget has been approved two weeks ago, but you know the bureaucratic process. To tell you the truth, we are going about this rather half-cocked. Not that we have much of a choice in the matter."  
  
He paused for a moment, looking rather tired.  
  
"People are dying in this town every night, Finn," he finally continued. "We have to get this situation under control as soon as humanly possible and we have to do it without the public becoming aware of it. Can you imagine the panic if it came out that vampires and demons are actually real?"  
  
Riley nodded.  
  
"Good! Number one priority on this mission, Finn: Containment. Eliminate as many of those creatures as we can with as little fuss as possible. To do that we will have to learn more about them, of course. We have some researchers on the job, but right now they are mostly busy trying to separate all the Hollywood crap about vampires from the real thing."  
  
"And my job?" Riley asked.  
  
Burke smiled. "You will have the best job of them all, Riley. You get to go out at night and kill the beasties."  
  
#  
  
"That will be all for today," Walsh said, tearing Riley out of his memories. Students began filing out of the lecture hall, some of them coming by his desk. Another few hours seemed to pass until he was finally finished with the last of them.  
  
Too bad Buffy had gone already.  
  
Mind on the job, he reminded himself. Mind on the job. He was honest enough with himself to realize that he was crushing on that girl in a major way, but he was not here to endorse his own romantic urges. No matter how much he would like to.  
  
Setting him up with this cover had been a way to integrate people into what was one of the demons' favorite hunting grounds. Several other agents held day jobs here on the campus, which helped them familiarize themselves with the area and the people.  
  
Making a mental note that he had to grade papers later today he headed towards his car, driving away from the campus toward Sunnydale's warehouse district. Shipping trade was not exactly Sunnydale's major source of income, but the docks remained moderately busy and many buildings had sprung up in that area. Many of them had been abandoned again, too, which left many a hiding place for those who wanted to stay out of the spotlight.  
  
Riley took a zigzag route through the maze of shabby buildings until he was certain that no one had followed him, finally heading toward his actual target. His beeper opened the rusted iron gate of the warehouse in front of him and he pulled inside, parking his car alongside a row of other vehicles that stood well back from the entrance, out of sight.  
  
Stepping through another door, this one opened by a key card, ruined the illusion of the abandoned warehouse quite thoroughly.  
  
Their base of operations was still in the building phase, of course. The fact that they could only work with minimal noise and could not afford to have large truckloads of equipment delivered during the day slowed down the process.  
  
Right now the base consisted of little more than a communications room, set up in what had originally been the office of the warehouse manager, a training area, a weapons cabinet, and several rooms for the research people. Apart from the working crew only a skeleton staff was present, most of the agents assigned to Sunnydale currently going about their day jobs.  
  
Riley approached Burke, who was talking with the researchers.  
  
"Anything new on our guest?" Riley asked.  
  
The first few operations here in Sunnydale had been anything but easy. Oh, finding targets had not been a problem. The town was swarming with them come nightfall. Unfortunately they knew very little about them so far and had to go through a trial and error phase when it came to fighting them.  
  
They had lost two men so far and none of them had gotten away without at least some minor injuries. Guns were useless against these creatures, could slow them down at best. They were freakishly strong and blindingly fast. Taking them on one on one was suicide. The best method they had worked out so far was putting them down from a distance with rifles, then closing in to deliver the killing blow by cutting off their heads with large combat knives. It was an imperfect method at best, though. The bastards recovered too quickly.  
  
A few nights ago, though, they had gotten lucky. His team, consisting of four operatives, had come upon a single vampire who appeared quite busy talking to himself. He had not noticed them sneaking up on him and Riley had made the quick decision not to eliminate this one. The researchers had been screaming for a test subject to put through the wringer and after the rather disastrous results of their first nights out Burke had decided that they should get their wish. Every little bit they learned about these things could only help.  
  
Thankfully vampires had proved to be every bit as receptive to tasers as humans were.  
  
"He is rather uncooperative," Burke snorted. "Keeps ranting about something called the Slayer whenever he feels unobserved. Has quite a vocabulary, too."  
  
Riley looked at the screen that showed them a picture of the jury-rigged cell where they had put their first and only captive. The vampire was dressed in a long black coat and kept pacing the length of the cell, mouthing curses and wringing his hands.  
  
"Apparently his name is Spike," the researcher added.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	4. Make Room For the New

Part 3: Make Room For the New  
  
#  
  
Only one rune remained and James Howell stared at the row of young men assembled behind him. Little more than boys really, the oldest among them twenty years of age. All of them were prepared, or as prepared as they could be after a mere two months. Most of them had been raised by the Watchers, intended to comprise the next generation of the Council. Now, though, one of them would go on to be something very different.  
  
"We are ready, Mr. Howell," one of the mages told him.  
  
"Very well," he answered, wiping sweat from his brow again. "The process should begin the moment the door is unlocked."  
  
He looked over at his colleagues, standing a short distance away. Jefferson Mayhew, the head of training, was the one who had selected the fifteen young males standing close to the entrance and his weathered face was a mask of anxiety. Next to him Quentin Travers watched the whole scene with a mix of anticipation and dread playing over his face.  
  
Howell's job was almost at an end now, he realized. He had researched the runes and what would happen once the Huntsman was unleashed. He had prepared everything as best he could. Now, though, he could only lean back and see what happened. If everything worked then it would be up to Travers. If it did not, well ...  
  
"Do it," he said almost resignedly.  
  
The mages began to chant as he took a few steps back, now reduced to the role of spectator. Howell had a certain talent when it came to magic, but not nearly enough for this task. The Council employed a special cadre of mages just for tasks like these and they had had their hands full these past few days.  
  
The chanting reached a crescendo as the final rune on the black stone door began to glow dimly. The hairs on Howell's neck stood up straight as the air around him was supercharged with magical energy. He resisted the urge to fiddle with hands.  
  
Then the final rune faded and the black stone creaked as it opened.  
  
#  
  
Jackson King had celebrated his eighteenth birthday a few months ago and at that time his life had run pretty straightforwardly. He had been born a member of the Watchers Council and had been brought up knowing he would one day do his part, though maybe a rather small one, to help keep the world safe. He knew that the Council's work was vital to the survival of the human race and he was filled with the pride of belonging.  
  
Now, though, he found himself to be rather anxious for the first time he could remember. Something would happen today, something that no one had prepared him for from birth, and he was scared. Especially since the older Watchers had remained rather vague about the whole thing.  
  
He knew the basics, of course. There had been a falling-out between the Council and its supernatural agent, the Slayer. It was unheard of for this to happen, but happened it had and the Council had taken steps to deal with the realities of it. Jackson for his part could not understand why the Slayer would abandon the Council, but would be the first to admit that he did not know enough about the circumstances surrounding that event to be truly objective about it.  
  
As a result of the Slayer's absence the Council was looking to find a substitute. That was pretty much the extent of his knowledge. There were a lot of rumors, of course, as there always were. Jackson had not given much credence to them until about a month ago, when he and fourteen other youths from the Council's ranks had been selected to accompany Quentin Travers and Jefferson Mayhew to a secluded location in Eastern Europe.  
  
Prior to that trip they had been put through rigorous physical training, as well as lessons in meditation and focusing. None of them doubted that they were being prepared for something, though what that something might be? Nobody knew.  
  
One of the younger boys, a lad called Martin, had joked that they had enough of rebellious girl Slayers and would now be choosing a man as the new Slayer. A few people had laughed, but everyone knew that it was not a possibility. The Slayer only choose girls as its host, had done so for the past thousands of years. Jackson doubted that even the Watchers would be willing to tinker with that for fear of what might go wrong.  
  
Since coming here to South America the rumors had intensified. They had overheard some of the mages and knew that they were working on opening a magical seal, the door to some sort of prison. They were to free something from that prison. What this had to do with the fifteen of them was anyone's guess.  
  
Now they stood lined up like soldiers in front of that very same door and it was slowly opening. Howell had said that the 'process', whatever it was, would start the moment it did. Jackson was waiting with held breath, trying to be ready for everything.  
  
Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next, though.  
  
Later he would remember seeing a flash of light in the opening doorway, but it all happened much too fast for him to consciously register it at that point. The next thing he knew a terrible, searing pain was shooting through him, liquid fire filling up every cell of his body. He screamed as he fell to his knees, screamed until his throat was raw, but the pain kept coming.  
  
His blood thundered through his veins like molten quicksilver as he felt himself changing. Words could not describe the sensations running through his body. His fingers dug into the ground, somehow searching for an anchor, anything to keep the pain at bay. His right hand closed around a rock and moments later it shattered under the pressure, torn apart like cheap pulp.  
  
Jackson was dimly aware that there were people around him, though most of them stayed well back. He was still screaming, in too much pain to ask them for help, and none of them came close. They just watched with rapt fascination as an invisible fire consumed him, melted him down into slag only to rebuild him into something new, something different.  
  
It seemed to take hours, though he was later told that only seconds passed. The pain slowly faded and the world came into focus once more. Jackson panted, feeling like he had just run a marathon, yet at the same time he felt stronger than ever before. He had always been into sports and kept himself quite fit, yet right now he was prepared to lift a mountain without breaking a sweat.  
  
What had happened to him?  
  
"Mr. King? Can you hear me?"  
  
He looked up and saw Quentin Travers standing over him, his eyes guarded. For a moment Jackson's vision shifted and he swore he could see the pulse beating in Travers' throat, swore he could hear the beat of his heart all the way over here. Travers was nervous, even though his face did not betray him.  
  
"I can hear you, sir," Jackson said, his voice rough from the screaming. He slowly got back to his feet.  
  
"Easy, son! You have been through quite an ordeal."  
  
Jackson shook his head, trying to dispel the cobwebs. Everyone was staring at him, including the fourteen youths he had arrived with. The looks on their faces varied from curious to excitement to ... jealousy?  
  
"What ... what has happened to me?" he managed to ask.  
  
"Something extraordinary," Travers said, though the look on his face did not match the positive tone of his voice. "You, Mr. King, have been chosen."  
  
"Chosen?" he asked, not understanding.  
  
"Yes, Mr. King. Congratulations. You are the chosen one of this generation. You are the Huntsman."  
  
The Huntsman. The name echoed through his head over and over again. He had never heard it before, he knew that, but somehow there was a resonance somewhere deep inside him. Something stirred upon the uttering of that name, telling him that it was right, that it fit. The Huntsman. Yes, he was the Huntsman.  
  
Suddenly a face flashed before his eyes. The face of a young woman. She, too, was unknown to him, yet again there was that feeling of rightness, of familiarity. It was as if he knew her, knew her on a level far deeper than any conscious thought or memory.  
  
Moments later he realized who she was.  
  
"The Slayer," he whispered. "Where is the Slayer?"  
  
This time Quentin Travers did not manage to keep his face neutral.  
  
#  
  
Half a world away Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer, suddenly looked up from the report she had to write for her psychology class and a shiver went down her spine.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	5. All the Men In My Life

Part 4: All the Men In My Life  
  
#  
  
More than ever Riley had problems concentrating during Walsh's lecture. Maybe it was the fact that it was already quite late in the afternoon and he had had a really boring day with little more than his own thoughts to occupy him. Or maybe it was just frustration with the way things were going on this assignment.  
  
Over the past few days he had spent most of his time observing the vampire they had imprisoned, the one who called himself Spike. Had watched as the researchers tried to get information out of him, first by starving him, then through various forms of torture. It was not an experience Riley particularly enjoyed and he had to keep reminding himself that this thing that looked like a human being was actually nothing but a dead body, somehow animated and out for the blood of the living.  
  
Unfortunately so far they had had little luck. Spike refused to answer any of their questions, though he kept mumbling about all the things he would do to someone or something called the Slayer. They had managed to gather some data, for example how long it took the vampire to recover from a gunshot to the chest or head; that any and all kinds of gas and poison were utterly useless; several other details they had not known before. All in all, though, they were not much smarter than they had been before.  
  
It was getting frustrating, especially considering the situation in the field. There was a limit to the size of the special operations forces they could employ in a town like Sunnydale without the citizens becoming aware of something going on. Heavy weapons were out of the question unless they were in remote areas, too much noise. All circumstances pretty much worked against them and Riley was all too aware of how ineffective he and the other 'beasty-killers' were so far.  
  
If all of that was not frustrating enough, well, there was that other thing. That thing called Buffy Summers and the fact that he could not stop thinking about her. A few days ago she had actually come down to ask him a few questions and they had chatted quite amiably. It had taken all his self- control not to ask her out right then and there, especially seeing the way she smiled at him. A smile so innocent and beautiful, yet at the same time somehow laden with sadness and hurt.  
  
Rumors around the campus had it that Buffy Summers was 'damaged goods'. Riley had almost punched the guy who had told him that. According to the grapevine she had fallen for a jerk called Parker, one of those who collected one-night-stands like other people did stamps. A big part of Riley wanted nothing better than to look up that idiot and beat the shit out of him. Several times.  
  
Not his place, he reminded himself.  
  
Yesterday he had talked to Forrest, one of his colleagues, who was also something of a friend. They had gone through the academy together and then found themselves assigned to the same mission. They worked well as a team and Forrest was an easy guy to talk to. Something of a macho, though.  
  
Riley had somehow hoped that Forrest would strengthen him in his conviction to stay away from Buffy, but quite the opposite had happened. His friend did not see a problem in them having some good times with the local girls as long as it did not jeopardize the mission.  
  
Of course 'having some good times' was not exactly what Riley had in mind. He had never been the guy to just sleep around and forget about it a week later. Sometimes he regretted that, guys like Forrest seemed to have it easier with the ladies, but he had never tried to change, either.  
  
As the lecture ended and the students began filing out of the room Riley had come to something of a resolution. His thoughts kept going back to Buffy and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it. It was distracting, keeping him from performing his assignment as best he could. He had tried ignoring it, denying it, reminding himself of all the things his trainers had taught him about things never to do while in the field.  
  
As none of that had helped any he decided to try something else. Ask Buffy Summers out on a date. No, maybe not a date. A cup of coffee. Yeah, that sounded a lot better. Neutral. He could always tell her it was just to talk about college stuff. A backdoor to weasel out through if things turned awkward in any way.  
  
And if they did not? Well ... he would be here for some time with the way things were going. This could be quite the long-term mission and if it turned out that Buffy and he could become ... something ... he could do that. He would have to be careful to juggle all that in addition to his cover story and the mission, but it could be done, could it not?  
  
Gathering all his courage he stood from his desk and walked toward Buffy as she and her redhead friend were filing out of the room.  
  
#  
  
"Oh, Riley at three o'clock," Willow whispered to Buffy.  
  
The Slayer turned to look at the approaching TA, stepping to the side a little to let the other students pass. Ever since their little pity-fest a week or so ago she and Willow had made a pact to help cheer each other up. That included pointing out potential boyfriends, but did definitely not include any kind of setting-up or encouragement. Both still needed time to heal and Buffy doubted that she was capable of doing more than enjoying the occasional eyeful right now.  
  
Still, she clearly saw that Willow was excited about any potential romance for her friend. Buffy smiled. Willow was a person who could find almost as much joy in other people's happiness as in her own and she envied the redhead for that ability. It could be unnerving sometimes, especially when Willow went out of her way to make other people happy whether they wanted to or not, but after everything that had happened with Oz Willow had gotten a lot better at stifling that particular urge of hers.  
  
She studied Riley as he came closer. During their few talks she had come to regard him as a genuinely nice guy. He had helped her somewhat when she was down and out after that terrible mistake with Parker, had cheered her up. He was a tremendous help when it came to the whole psychology stuff and talking to him was easy and enjoyable.  
  
The possibility that he was interested in her had not really entered her mind so far, but the undertone in Willow's voice clearly showed that she thought so. Judging by the look on Riley's face, a rather adorable kind of anxiousness, she might not be too far off the mark there.  
  
"Hi, Buffy. Willow."  
  
"Hi," the two girls said almost in unison, causing Willow to giggle.  
  
"Buffy, could I talk to you for a second?"  
  
Willow smiled and excused herself, leaving the two of them alone in the now empty lecture hall. Riley stepped from one foot to the other, causing Buffy to grin. He was really cute when he was nervous.  
  
"What's up, Riley?" she finally asked him.  
  
"Well, ... I was wondering if you would like to go for a cup of coffee. With me."  
  
He gave her a shy smile and Buffy almost said yes right then and there. There was something about his shy farm boy charm that really called to her. Then, though, she remembered the last time she had fallen for someone's charm so easily and so quickly. Her smile fell a bit.  
  
"Riley, I ...," she began.  
  
His beeper went off and Riley muttered a curse as he took it out, looked at the number.  
  
"Just great," he muttered.  
  
"Problem?"  
  
"Yeah, I really have to go. Something of an emergency. Listen, about ..."  
  
"Let's talk about it later, okay? Go deal with your emergency."  
  
There was a somewhat hurt look on his face, maybe he had expected a more positive answer from her than 'later'. Buffy was a bit sorry to see him like that. He was a good guy, that much she believed. Then again, she had believed that about Parker, too.  
  
"I'll take you up on that," he finally said, smiling again, before he turned to walk away. Buffy looked after him for a moment, then shook her head. Riley seemed nice, but ...  
  
She really needed something to distract herself. The sun was about to go down and she was on for a long patrol tonight, hopefully finding and killing quite a few vampires in the process. Before that, though, she had promised to visit Giles. He had done some research on those strange black- clad S.W.A.T.-team type guys she had seen popping up around Sunnydale as of late and wanted to talk to her about it. Maybe he had found out something. Something that would require her to fight and beat up someone.  
  
A girl could hope, could she not?  
  
#  
  
Riley reached the base in record time and his car had barely come to a stop when he jumped out and ran inside. The number on his beeper was the emergency alarm code, calling all operatives back to the base for immediate action. The small gun he always carried under his jacket was in his hand as he stormed through the final door and came upon the chaos inside.  
  
The main area of the warehouse was in shambles. Tables overturned, computer screens broken on the floor, the two paramedics on their team busy with several wounded men. The emergency exit door had been pulled off its hinges.  
  
He saw Burke talking to one of the agents assigned to research, quite loudly so, even as several operatives where in the process of suiting up, loading weapons and getting ready for action.  
  
"What happened?" Riley asked, picking out his own equipment in the process.  
  
"Damn researchers fucked up, that's what happened," Forrest said, an angry look on his face. "They let that vampire escape."  
  
"What?"  
  
"That's what I said, too."  
  
Burke came up to the men, looking rather angry and out of patience. Agent Weinheim, the man in charge of research, trailed along behind him, looking somewhat subdued.  
  
"He escaped ten minutes ago," the senior agent said. "Timed his escape just right to go through the emergency door the second the sun set."  
  
"We theorized that vampires have some sort of internal clock that lets them know when the sun ..."  
  
"Shut up," Burke interrupted Weinheim. "Termination order is in effect. That vampire has seen too much of our operation here. He must be destroyed tonight. Find him and do it!"  
  
Riley looked around. The current roster of their special operations force contained twenty agents for search and destroy assignments. Fourteen of them were present and Riley knew that two were still in intensive care at the moment, having run afoul of some vampires a few nights ago. The others were probably on their way right now, but they could not wait for them to arrive.  
  
"I don't suppose we have come up with any way to track them yet, have we?" he asked.  
  
Weinheim motioned toward the night vision gear they all carried.  
  
"Data gathering on the vampire has shown that his body generates no heat of its own. They are always room temperature. Use the infrared mode paired with motion tracking. If you see a moving body with no heat signature ..."  
  
Riley shrugged. Not the best of ways to track something, but better than nothing.  
  
"The vampire has been starved for some time," Burke told everyone. "He will probably be looking for a victim first thing. Teams 1 and 2 will check out the college grounds. Team 3, take the harbor district and check the bars. Team 4 will head for that nightclub, the Bronze. Stay in radio contact at all times and call in the moment you find him!"  
  
Riley nodded. Moments later they were on their way and all thoughts of teaching, dating, and everything else not connected with the hunt for their fugitive disappeared from his mind.  
  
#  
  
Spike panted unnecessarily as he reached the edge of the college grounds, an angry snarl permanently frozen on his face. Somewhere around here was that bitch of a Slayer. He would find her and this time there would be no alliances, no fancy magical rings, no daylight, no angry mothers with axes. This time he would simply kill her.  
  
"Think your friends can take me off your back, do you?" he mumbled under his breath. "You've got another thing coming, Slayer."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	6. The Daring Escape of William the Bloody

Part 5: The Daring Escape of William the Bloody  
  
#  
  
Like so often as of late Willow found nothing better to do with her evening than to lie on her bed and study. Okay, maybe the word studying was not really the appropriate term for the mindless turning of pages, their content forgotten the moment she took her eyes away. It did not help that most of the material in her current lectures was already known to her, as she had taken college-level classes during her final year at Sunnydale High.  
  
All of which left her all too much time to think.  
  
Oz was gone. He had left saying that he might not be back for a long time, not until he learned to understand and hopefully control the wolf that lived inside him. He had cheated on her, yes, but somehow that did not change the fact that she loved him and she missed him so much. It was like there was this terrible hole in her side, some part of her torn away without warning. There was no telling whether he was ever going to be back and the mere thought of spending the rest of her life without ever seeing him again was almost too much to bear.  
  
She had thought she understood what Buffy was going through when Angel left, but she had not had a clue. Not one. It had only been about four months for Buffy and she was more or less back on her feet, though still hurting. A part of Willow was even happy that there seemed to be some sort of sparkage between Buffy and Riley, though she doubted her best friend would let anything come of it. The largest part of her, though, was simply hurting. Hurting for Oz, hurting because she could not imagine being back on her feet in four months, hurting for the boy she loved so dearly.  
  
There was a knock on her door.  
  
"Come in," Willow absentmindedly said, not really caring who it was. Maybe Buffy was back from her talk with Giles. The Slayer wanted to patrol tonight, that she knew, but maybe she had changed her mind and would stay with Willow. They could watch some movies, stuff themselves with ice cream, that sort of thing.  
  
Buffy would not knock on her own dorm room door, though, would she?  
  
Maybe it was Xander. No, probably not. Her oldest living friend was much too busy keeping his new girlfriend happy these days. A tear came to her eye when she thought about that. Anya was strange, which had to be the biggest understatement of the year, but at least she was someone he could share his time with. Someone he could love, no matter how little she understood the reasons for that. She wished ...  
  
"Slayer is not here, eh?" a voice interrupted her thoughts. A familiar voice.  
  
Willow froze. It could not be him. She slowly looked up and her denial shattered upon seeing him standing in the door.  
  
Her last encounter with the vampire called Spike had been almost exactly a year ago, when he had kidnapped her and Xander in order to force her into performing a love spell for him. Drusilla had broken up with him and he wanted her back. Willow knew that he had been back in Sunnydale since then and had fought Buffy, but that fight, like so many others, had not gone in his favor and he had fled once more. Oz had told her how he followed him to Los Angeles, trying to get the Gem of Amara from Angel, but that, too, had come to naught.  
  
Somehow they had all hoped he would be gone for good this time. Only here he was now, standing in her dorm room, smirking at her.  
  
"Nice of you to just invite me in, though," he shrugged, coming closer toward her. "I guess we'll have to pass the time somehow until sweet little Buffy gets here."  
  
Willow was shaking with fear and Spike knew it, it was evident in his smirk. She inched back from him, got off the bed on the other side, but he was still solidly between her and the door and she knew that she would never have the time to open one of the windows and climb out.  
  
Spike's face changed into its true demonic shape and he advanced on her.  
  
#  
  
Team 2, comprised of Riley, Forrest, and two other special operations agents, was busily combing the southern part of the Sunnydale college grounds. A lot of students were still about this early in the night. A lot of opportunities for a starved vampire on the lookout for easy prey.  
  
"This is taking too long," Forrest whispered. "He could have killed a dozen people by now."  
  
"Odds are he hasn't. The Sunnydale police is terribly incompetent, but we would have heard something on the police radio if bodies had been found."  
  
"Maybe he hid them."  
  
"I doubt he cares about hiding his deeds at the moment, hungry as he must be."  
  
They were checking building by building, the combined use of infrared and motion tracking equipment allowing them to check out the tenants from the outside. So far all they had found were warm bodies, which would have been fine any other night.  
  
"I think I have something," the third member of Riley's team, agent Graham Miller, said. "The building over there."  
  
The four agents turned their night vision equipment in the direction he indicated.  
  
"First floor, fourth room from the right."  
  
Two bodies were moving in the room he had indicated. Only one of them had a heat signature.  
  
"Let's go!"  
  
#  
  
Panic overtook Willow when Spike came toward her, but only for a moment. She was unable to tell how often she had been in deadly danger during the last three and a half years of her life. Most of the time it had been Buffy who had bailed her out, sometimes Xander or Giles, but there had been times when she had been forced to fend for herself.  
  
Buffy had given her some self-defense lessons during the summer, mostly because she had desperately needed something to distract herself from brooding over Angel's departure, but also because they both figured that Willow needed those skills. She had also become rather adept at the art of witchcraft and, though far away from being a true witch, she had some tricks up her sleeve.  
  
Finishing her slide off the bed she quickly uttered the words of a rather simple spell. Spike never expected the bedside lamp to come flying toward him seemingly by itself, so he was too slow to keep it from crashing painfully into the side of his head. Willow quickly grabbed the covers from her bed and threw them over the vampire's head, effectively blinding him for a few crucial seconds.  
  
She was almost at the door when Spike's hand clamped down on her shoulder and violently threw her back into the room. The back of her head collided with the bedside table and stars exploded in front of her eyes.  
  
"Nice moves, red," he snarled at her. A trickle of blood down the side of his face showed where the lamp had hit him. "I'll be sure to let little Buffy know you put up a decent fight before I snacked on you."  
  
Without warning the lights in the building suddenly went out, causing Spike to pause. Willow could barely see the outline of his body, but he did not advance on her for the moment, seeming confused.  
  
"Is this someone's idea of a joke?" she heard him mutter.  
  
Moments later the door crashed open and Willow saw dark shapes moving in, heading directly for Spike.  
  
#  
  
It took them but a moment to find the building's fuse box and disable it, plunging it into darkness. Riley hated the delay, especially seeing as the vampire was already in the same room with a potential victim, but this was probably the quicker way to do it. Dressed as they were in black combat armor and armed to the teeth they would draw too much attention if they were seen.  
  
Confused students filled the corridors, but the agents shouldered past them in the darkness without drawing more than some rude words, no one able to see them properly. Their night vision equipment, though, made things clear as day and they arrived at the room in question within a minute.  
  
Things happened incredibly fast the moment they broke the door down. The vampire stood in the middle of the room, a young girl cowering from him near one of the two beds. Riley recognized her. Willow? Was this Willow and Buffy's dorm room then? Where was Buffy?  
  
The creature had already turned to look at them, the darkness seemingly no hindrance, and attacked the same moment they did.  
  
The close confines of the dorm room quickly became a death trap. Forrest got off two shots from his Glock before the vampire, barely slowing down from the bullet impacts, caught him with a vicious kick that sent the agent flying right out the door and hard into the opposite wall with a sickening crunch. Riley, his assault rifle to cumbersome, had drawn his combat knife and slashed at the creature's neck, managing to draw some blood before he suddenly found himself on the receiving end of its inhuman strength.  
  
His night vision goggles shattered and the world was plunged into darkness and pain. He found himself lying on the floor, the sounds of battle somewhere to his right. This was not going well, he realized. Not well at all.  
  
"Put me in a cage, will you?" he heard the vampire snarl, immediately followed by the unmistakable sound of breaking bones.  
  
Riley's fingers found the butt of his assault rifle. He had trouble seeing anything in the darkness, but he knew all the agents were wearing Kevlar. A stray bullet should not hurt them. The sound of a machine gun going off in here would no doubt attract attention, but their battle had already accomplished that quite nicely, he bet.  
  
Before he could press the trigger, though, a new shape suddenly exploded into the room, making a byline for Spike, and tackled him with enough force to make both of them tumble across the floor. Had the other teams arrived? No, not enough time had passed for that. The shape was not dressed in black, either. White, he thought. None of the agents wore white.  
  
Riley fought back to his feet, still dizzy and feeling the rather distinct pain of a broken rib. This was going just great, was it not?  
  
The lights began to flicker, apparently some of the students had reached the fuse box and were trying to get it back into working order. Between spots of light Riley saw the vampire Spike tangled up with a smaller figure, but they were moving too fast through the twilight for him to make out more than that. What he did saw, though, were his teammates sprawled across the wrecked room and corridor.  
  
The lights went out again, but not before he saw the vampire crashing through one of the windows and disappearing into the night.  
  
"Abort," he yelled, pulling Forrest back to his feet. "Return to base!"  
  
They scrambled out of the room. One last look back showed no trace of whomever had attacked Spike and thereby saved them. Willow seemed all right and he now spotted Buffy as well, quickly scampering over to see if her roommate was all right. Both the vampire and their mysterious savior were gone.  
  
How was he supposed to explain any of this to Burke?  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	7. Preperations for Thanksgiving

Part 6: Preparations For Thanksgiving  
  
#  
  
Willow flinched when the door opened, closing her eyes and cursing herself for a moment. It had been two weeks, she reminded herself. Two weeks with no further sign of Spike. They had done the spell on their dorm to revoke his invitation. He could not come in and she would certainly never again invite someone without looking who it was.  
  
Still, it did not help much. She was still shaky from the vampire's attacking her. It was a bit strange. Harmony had come much closer to killing her. Spike had barely even touched her, much less sank his fangs into her neck. Somehow, though, it was hard to see Harmony as a true danger. Spike, though, was a whole different story.  
  
She was afraid of him.  
  
"You all right, Willow?" Xander asked, seeing the look on her face.  
  
"Peachy," she said, plastering a false smile on her face. "I just ... I was afraid it would be Buffy and she'd ask me where all that food I was supposed to get is and I haven't gotten it yet, so she might be mad at me for wrecking her Thanksgiving dinner and ..."  
  
Xander walked closer, putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her babbling. He knew exactly what was bugging his best friend. They had both come rather close to being killed by Spike once upon a time and though he tended to do things off with a joke and a smile he had not been any less frightened.  
  
"Hey, it's okay. We'll get the foodstuff in time for the big Buffy-dinner, okay?"  
  
For a moment Willow allowed herself to relax. These days she often felt as if life itself was out to get them. Oz had left. Spike had almost killed her. Her best friend was hurting every bit as much as she did, even though she had had more time to get over it. Getting over being left by the guy you loved was not really a matter of time, she guessed.  
  
Ever since Spike's attack Buffy had been out every night, patrolling for hours on end to find and kill the bleached vampire once and for all. It tired her out and had yet to produce any results. Willow was afraid what would happen should she come upon Spike in that weakened condition.  
  
Tonight, though, they would have their big Thanksgiving dinner. Maybe all their problems could wait until tomorrow.  
  
"Okay," Willow said, squeezing Xander's hand in return. "Let's get the foodstuff."  
  
#  
  
Riley had called in sick for a few days after the nearly lethal encounter with Spike in the dorms. The other teams had looked all over Sunnydale to find the vampire, but had come up empty. Which, considering Team 2's track record fighting him, might not have been the worst thing that could have happened to them, Riley had to admit.  
  
By now they knew that vampire did not necessarily equal vampire. Fighting those that regularly prowled the many graveyards of this town was tough, but most of them were not skilled in any form of martial arts, had nothing but brute strength and inhuman speed going for them. Spike had been a different matter, though. He knew how to fight.  
  
By now Riley knew that their capturing him as easily as they did had been equal parts carelessness on Spike's and good luck on their own part. The second time around they had not been lucky and that had nearly spelled the end for Riley and his teammates.  
  
Worry over the still free vampire had also managed to distract him quite nicely from the thing he had planned to do just before Spike had broken free. Truth to tell he had barely seen hide nor hair of Buffy these last two weeks. She had skipped some classes (and gotten a thorough chewing-out by Walsh in return) and when she was present she looked tired and worn out. Not once had she even looked in his direction.  
  
So when they ran into each other at the all-night supermarket neither of them knew what to say.  
  
"Uh ... hi, Buffy," Riley said after about a minute of awkward silence.  
  
"Hi," she answered, shifting the shopping cart she had with her back and forth.  
  
"I ... it's been a while, but remember that I wanted to ... you know ... invite you for a cup of coffee?"  
  
Buffy just nodded, not meeting his eyes.  
  
"Well ... the offer still stands and ... I was kinda hoping you'd take me up on it."  
  
She remained silent, then looked up with an earnest expression on her face.  
  
"Riley, listen. I ... I like you. A lot, actually. You're a great guy, but ..."  
  
"Sentences that start that way usually don't end well," Riley mused.  
  
A small smile graced Buffy's lips. "How about another cliché then? It's not you, Riley. It's me. I ... I've been in a pretty long and ... intense relationship until about four months ago and ... I'm just not ready for something new. Or someone new."  
  
Riley nodded. He had actually expected something like that from the hurt look he had often seen flash in her eyes. He was a psychology major, after all, and Buffy showed all the textbook signs of someone who had been hurt on a very personal level.  
  
"Bad break-up?" he asked.  
  
"No. Yes. I ... the break-up ... well, as break-ups go, I guess it wasn't the worst. We didn't part hating each other or anything, but ... I still miss him and ... and I like you too much, Riley, to make you into rebound guy."  
  
Should he feel good or bad about that now, he mused. Buffy considered him a good guy, she liked him, and precisely because of that she did not want to go out with him. Somehow this really did not sound like a good deal.  
  
Still, looking at her as she waited for his response, he knew that he, too, liked her even more now. She had bared her heart to him, or at least a small part of it, and somehow that made her even more beautiful than before.  
  
"Wow," he finally muttered, brushing his hand through his hair. "I ... well, I didn't expect something like this."  
  
"I know guys don't want to hear this," she told him, "but ... could we just be friends, Riley? You've helped me quite a bit these past few months. I don't want things to become awkward between us."  
  
Riley sighed, looking away from her for a long moment. This really was not what he wanted, was it? He had worked up the courage to ask her out expecting to either be rebuffed completely, thereby freeing him up to really concentrate on a mission that was right in the middle of being fucked up, or to make it into a relationship that would serve as some sort of balance to all that darkness he suddenly found himself immersed in.  
  
Becoming friends with her, though? Just friends? He really was not sure he could do that. How was he supposed to be friends with someone whom he not only really, really liked, but also would have to lie to all the time? Okay, the second would have been trouble in a relationship, too, but ...  
  
"Too late for that, eh?" Buffy asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.  
  
"I guess," he mumbled, looking at her again. "Buffy, I ... I guess I ... sorta hoped for something else, but ... I understand that you don't want to get involved again. And ... well, one can never have too many friends, right?"  
  
Okay, so maybe that last line could have sounded a little less pathetic, he told himself. Still, if all she was ready to offer him at this point was friendship, then friendship he would take. For now.  
  
"I'm glad," she said, taking his hand. "I really am."  
  
He squeezed her hand back.  
  
#  
  
From outside the supermarket the dark shape watched as Buffy and that strange young man held hands and an unbeating heart ached with seeing it. This was what he had wanted, was it not? What he had told her to do. Find someone else. Someone human, someone who could give her all those things a good relationship should entail. All the things he could not give her.  
  
Still, to see her actually doing it ...  
  
Angel tore himself away from the scene and melded into the darkness of night. He was here for a reason and, though it did have to do with Buffy, there was absolutely no reason for her to know about his presence. It would only hurt her more.  
  
He was only here to make sure she was safe and then he would leave again. Leave her to go on with her life, no matter how much it might hurt him.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	8. The Correct Appliance of a Shotgun

Part 7: The Correct Appliance of a Shotgun  
  
#  
  
It was a very Spike thing to do, they all agreed afterwards.  
  
The bleached vampire had always been an odd mixture of base cunning and unpredictable aggression. At one moment he would make an intricate plan to search the Sunnydale sewer system for the Gem of Amara, employing dozens of vampires and moving strategically, the next he would simply attack Buffy without any plan or strategy whatsoever.  
  
Ever since his sudden reappearance in their lives two weeks earlier Buffy and the others had waited for him to strike. After his near-fatal attack on Willow they had all been sure that he would not simply leave them alone. Buffy had run herself ragged scouring Sunnydale for him, but without success.  
  
It did not help that she was constantly getting this tingly feeling somewhere in her belly, the one that she still recognized to hold a very special meaning. Only it could not be that same feeling, for its usual source was far away from here. Had removed itself from her life for good, whether she liked it or not.  
  
Finally Buffy had decided that they all needed a night off. Willow was down because of Oz and still frightened because of Spike. Xander, she had come to realize, was feeling left out as the only one not going to college and his relationship, if one could call it that, to Anya was anything but relaxing, either. Giles, though still her Watcher as far as she was concerned, was not exactly flowering in the slacker life. She herself had enough issues to found a self-help club all by her lonesome. They all needed something fun to distract themselves and Buffy had decided that it would be a Thanksgiving dinner.  
  
Giles apartment was the location she had chosen, despite her Watcher's hearty attempts to dissuade her from it. She had mobilized the others to gather food and decorations, had invested a lot of time in talking Willow into participating. The redhead was not particularly fond of a holiday that, in her mind, stood for the white man's taking the land away from the native Americans. Still, she had finally agreed to come and be merry, or at least pretend to be.  
  
In hindsight Buffy should not have been surprised that Spike choose that night of all nights to spring his latest surprise on her. Then again hindsight was always perfect.  
  
They were all gathered around the table, Buffy, Giles, Joyce, Willow, Xander, even Anya, having a somewhat good time with the meal Buffy and her mother had prepared, when the windows of Giles apartment suddenly blew in.  
  
"Knock, knock," someone yelled from outside as everyone dove under the table. "Get your butt out here, Slayer! I got presents!"  
  
Buffy peeked out from under the table, the hailstorm of glass shards having passed them by, and growled under her breath. "Spike!"  
  
"Spike?" Joyce asked. "But didn't he give you his word that he would never ..."  
  
"He's a bad guy, mom," she told her mother, still weirded out by how chummy her and Spike had been last year during his 'Drusilla-left-me' moping fest. "It's kinda a union requirement for him to break his word in regular intervals."  
  
"He can't come in, right?" Willow whispered. "I mean ... no one invited him in, right? I know I didn't. I'm sure I didn't."  
  
"Relax, Will," Xander patted her shoulder. "The Buffster will stake his ass this time. Right, Buffy?"  
  
"You bet!"  
  
Buffy rose, stake in hand, and carefully approached the shattered window. Outside in the court of the apartment complex Spike stood waiting with a bored expression on his face, about a dozen vampires and other assorted demons surrounding him.  
  
"There you are," he smiled as he saw her. "I was starting to think you weren't allowed to come out and play."  
  
"Oh, I'll play, Spikey! But why don't you introduce me to your friends first?"  
  
Spike shrugged. "They can introduce themselves. Get'em, boys!"  
  
Two of the non-vampire demons immediately stormed forward and ran down the door, not needing any invitation to enter. Giles and Xander had helped themselves to some weapons by now, though, as had Willow and Anya. Joyce, too, was holding a crossbow in hand, but did not seem all that certain what to do with it. Buffy just hoped that she would not poke out somebody's eye with it.  
  
Spike continued taunting her, but she did not take the bait. The vampires could not come in, so the most stupid thing she could have done now was go outside and face them. Instead she turned around to deal with the demons inside first.  
  
"I'll be out in a few, Spike," she yelled over her shoulder as she dove into the mayhem that had become Giles' living room.  
  
"I'm sure you will," Spike simply said, taking his time walking up to the shattered window front. He could not enter, that was true, but he had never planned to, either. Slowly he reached beneath his coat and took out a shotgun.  
  
"Not usually my style," he mumbled to himself as he carefully aimed it at Buffy's back, "but when you're cheating by bringing in outside muscle, well, I can hardly be blamed, can I?"  
  
#  
  
Angel was still watching as Spike and his posse started their attack. Everything inside of him was screaming to get involved now, to stop caring whether Buffy saw him or not. He held back, though. Buffy had survived without him so far and the only reason he was here was because of Doyle's vision.  
  
He still remembered the look on his friend's face when he had come out of the painful trance. Doyle had seen Buffy die, killed by Spike. Angel had barely taken the time to pack the barest essentials before he was out the door, saying a prayer of thanks to whomever had created polarized car windows.  
  
The last two days he had tailed Buffy all night long, careful to stay out of sight. He had seen her tense a number of times, seen her looking around, her eyes searching for what her senses told her was there. Seen the disappointment when she did not find it. It had taken every bit of self- control he had ever possessed not to show himself, not to walk out and take her in his arms.  
  
That was not what he was here for, he kept reminding himself. He was only here to keep her safe and it would be less painful if she did not see him.  
  
So he watched as Spike attacked, watched as Buffy did the smart thing and refused to be baited, dealing with the demons inside before concerning herself with the vampires outside. He frowned, trying to figure out Spike's game. His childe was smart, that much he had to admit, and knew Buffy well enough to know that the Slayer would not make so basic a mistake. What was he planning?  
  
When he saw Spike remove the shotgun from his coat he knew. He was frozen in surprise for a moment, but only for a moment. Whatever reason Spike had from abandoning his usual hands-on approach when it came to Slayer, fact was that Buffy would die unless he did something quickly. The Slayer had her back turned, certain in the knowledge that the vampires could not enter and attack her, unaware of the weapon pointed at her even now.  
  
Angel sprang into action without another moment's hesitation. Spike had three other vampires with them, but they were all watching the show inside. None of them saw him coming.  
  
#  
  
"Say goodbye, Slayer," Spike said, but before he could pull the trigger something grabbed him by the collar of his coat and wrenched him backwards, sending him flying across the courtyard. Even before he hit the ground he heard the characteristic sound of a vampire exploding into dust. No, two of them. He hit the ground, the ringing in his ears almost drowning out the sound of the third dusting.  
  
When he looked up again he saw his attacker and sighed deeply.  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be living in the big city now?" Spike asked his Sire as he got back to his feet.  
  
"I heard you were in town, boy," Angel growled, sliding his wrist-mounted stakes back into the sleeves of his coat. "Couldn't stay away."  
  
"I'm touched."  
  
Without further banter the two vampires started exchanging blows, their fight quickly carrying them away from the still-raging battle inside Giles' apartment. An uppercut by Angel threw Spike down the steps and nearly onto the street, but the bleached vampire recovered quickly enough to greet him with a painful kick to the ribs when Angel caught up with him.  
  
"Must be getting old, peaches," Spike goaded him. "Time was you would have had me across your knee the instant I pissed you off."  
  
"I didn't have you across my knee often enough, it would seem. Maybe you need a refreshment course in obedience."  
  
"Now you're talking like my Sire, mate! You didn't loose that pesky soul again, did you?"  
  
"No, but for you I'll put it away for the night."  
  
"You say the nicest things."  
  
They clashed again, neither able to gain a clear advantage over the other. Angel was the more skilled martial artist, but Spike countered through sheer determination and stubbornness. He wanted to kill the Slayer tonight and he would do it this time, Angel or no Angel.  
  
The fight spilled back into the courtyard after a thunderous roundhouse by Spike, sending Angel flying. The older vampire looked up from the floor at his approaching childe.  
  
"What happened, Spike? Since when do you need a shotgun to take care of a simple Slayer?"  
  
"Ran out of patience," Spike growled.  
  
"I hear you."  
  
Spike had about a second to realize that Angel had come to rest right next to his lost shotgun, the one that should have blown a hole in the Slayer's back. Then everything vanished in a haze of red.  
  
#  
  
Angel threw the shotgun away, his dislike for fire weapons having given way to pragmatism but briefly. Spike slid to the floor, a hole the size of Angel's fist right through his chest. The vampire still lived, of course, but would take a good long while to recover.  
  
Angel had other plans with him.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
Looking up Angel saw Willow and Xander standing in the door of Giles' apartment, looking first at him, then at Spike.  
  
"Is Buffy all right?" he asked them, concerned that he could not see the blonde Slayer anywhere.  
  
"She's fine," Willow said, still seeming somewhat shocked. "One of the demons retreated upstairs and she followed it. Told us to check on Spike and the other vampires."  
  
"I've handled it."  
  
"So I see," Xander remarked, looking at the prone body of Spike. "And may I just add 'yuk'!"  
  
"Will you ... are you gonna stake him?" Willow asked.  
  
Angel looked at his prone childe and demon and man reached one of their rare accordances.  
  
"Eventually," he just said. "Not for a while, though."  
  
Willow nodded, then quickly darted forward and kicked the prone body in the side, quite forcefully so. Angel could not help a smile.  
  
"I owed him one," the witch said meekly.  
  
Angel just stood and hoisted Spike over his shoulder, starting to leave the courtyard, then remembered something else.  
  
"Don't tell Buffy I was here, okay? It would ... it would just make things more complicated."  
  
"What should we tell her about Spike?" Xander had few qualms about keeping Angel's appearance a secret. The less Buffy had to think about him the better.  
  
"You'll think of something, I'm sure."  
  
A few minutes later, with Spike safely locked into the trunk of his car, Angel was on his way back to Los Angeles.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	9. For Better or Worse

Part 8: For Better or Worse  
  
#  
  
Angel descended the steps to his apartment at the slowest pace possible. It was not just because of the numerous bruises he had received, the ones that were not healing as quickly as he was used to. If it was just those he could have dealt. It would take some getting used to, but he could.  
  
It was all the things that had happened these last 24 hours that made him reluctant to enter his own home. How could so many things change so very fast?  
  
Thinking back he should have known that Xander and Willow would not be able to come up with a convincing lie for Buffy. The redhead especially had never been able to keep a secret. Buffy had no doubt heard the shotgun blast, had seen the dust of the destroyed vampires in the courtyard, had seen the mess made when Angel had blown out half of Spike's chest with his own weapon. In the end the two teenagers had spilled the beans and Buffy had learned that Angel had been in her town.  
  
He had not expected her to follow him to Los Angeles, though, had not expected her to walk into his office in the middle of the day. Seeing her then, framed by sunlight, anger on her face as she looked at him, had nearly torn him apart with conflicting feelings of joy and dread. He did not want a confrontation with her, had done his best to avoid it while still being there to keep her safe from Spike.  
  
It was just too painful.  
  
The bleached vampire had been but a short side topic in their conversation. Buffy had wanted to know whether he was dead. Angel had told her not to worry about him. He was not dead, no, but by now he probably wished he was. He would be wishing for death for a very long time. Thinking about it now made Angel a bit queasy. Dealing with Spike had definitely been a job for Angelus, not Angel, and the demon had been about it with a lot of enthusiasm. Things had changed since then, though.  
  
Once assured that Spike would not be a danger any longer Buffy had then gone on to chew him out for his lurking ways. Why was he allowed to see her but not the other way around? They had talked in circles, finally resolving that staying apart was easier, when suddenly they found themselves under attack again.  
  
The demon, as he learned later, was a Mhora. Buffy and Angel had followed it through the sewers, finally splitting up to cover the daylight areas as well. Angel had found the demon deep in the tunnels and had defeated it, but not before something extraordinary had happened. Something he would never have believed possible.  
  
The thing's blood had turned him human. Human. After nearly 250 years he felt his heart beat again, felt his lungs draw in needed air, felt the warmth trailing off his own skin.  
  
Felt the pain of every single bruise he had gotten today.  
  
Things had happened so quickly then. The Oracles had released him from their service, telling him that he was no longer a warrior. Doyle had asked him what he wanted to do now and he had known exactly what he wanted. He had found Buffy, found her out in the sunlight, and kissed her without thinking.  
  
They had almost managed to rationalize their way out of going further than that kiss when their hands had touched, putting an end to rationality. The hours spent together in his apartment seemed like a dream to him, the most wonderful dream he ever had. Never in all his years had he known that it could be like this. Liam had never loved anyone with such a burning intensity. Angelus had never loved at all. And Angel, well, Angel the vampire had never been allowed to love except that one all-too-short night he had lost his soul.  
  
Now, though, they could be together, together like a man and a woman should. No curse stood between them now, not sunlight nor immortality. They were free to play, free to do everything he had ever wanted to do with her.  
  
Like all dreams, though, it had to come to an end. Doyle had had a vision of the Mhora coming back and Angel had realized that, simply because he was now human, it did not absolve him from his responsibilities. He found himself incapable of letting it go. He knew the things that went bump in the night, had been one of those things for centuries, and could not stop fighting them simply because he was not a strong as he used to be. He also knew that, if there was to be any future relationship between him and Buffy, he had to be able to hold his own.  
  
Unfortunately determination alone had not proven to be enough. The Mhora had nearly killed him before Buffy arrived and even then it had been a close affair. More than that, though, it had been the demon's words that had chilled him to the bone.  
  
"Together you were strong. Alone you are dead."  
  
He had gone to the Oracles as soon as he could stand again, had gone despite Buffy's protests that he needed to rest. He had asked them whether the Mhora's words had been true and they had confirmed it in their own cryptic fashion.  
  
Buffy would die because he was not there to fight at her side.  
  
He had then asked them to change him back. Give him back the strength to help her even if it cost him his newly regained humanity. None of it meant anything if Buffy had to die because of it. The Oracles had been impressed with his resolve, had complimented him for it. It had not changed anything, though.  
  
"What has been done can not be undone," the male Oracle had said.  
  
"You are what you are," the female had agreed. "Your time as a demon has passed."  
  
"I need to be able to help her," Angel had pleaded. "There must be something you can do."  
  
The two had conferred silently for a long moment, then the female had spoken to him once more.  
  
"There will be new opportunities, warrior. If it is truly your intention to continue aiding our cause, to aid the Slayer, then you will be given a chance very soon."  
  
"What kind of chance?"  
  
"Be vigilante, warrior. It will be your only chance."  
  
With that they had dismissed him, refusing to answer any more questions. He did not know what it meant. Another chance? A chance at what? He was still human, still too weak to help Buffy fight. What could they possibly have meant?  
  
His feet finally finished their way down into his apartment and before he even knew it a blonde whirlwind was upon him, closing her arms around him in a painful hug.  
  
"Thank God you're back," Buffy held him close as if her life depended on it.  
  
'It does,' a voice reminded him. 'She will die if you are not there.'  
  
"I'm here," he just said, holding her close as well, ignoring the pain of his bruises. "I'm here."  
  
"What was the big idea, mister?" she asked him when they finally let go, giving him a stern look. "You can barely stand. What was so important that you had to go out right now?"  
  
He looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "Nothing. I ... it wasn't as important as I thought, Buffy."  
  
She looked at him quizzically for another minute, but then seemed to resign.  
  
"Okay, but that's enough heroics for today. You're getting right back into bed and you're gonna stay there until you are healed and have promised me that you'll never go off like that again, okay?"  
  
He was about to protest, tell her not to worry about him, but finally thought better of it. She was right, he did need to heal. She was also right that he had been stupid to go after the Mhora by himself. He was human now, vulnerable, no longer her equal.  
  
You will be given a chance very soon, the Oracle had said. What kind of chance? What would happen? How could a mere human have a chance to be strong enough to fight by the Slayer's side?  
  
Buffy manhandled him into bed and tugged him in, lying down beside him with an air of worry on her face.  
  
"I don't want to lose you, okay?" she whispered to him, the love and worry in her voice causing his newly revived heart to ache. "Not now, not when we can finally be together."  
  
Her small hand tenderly touched his chest and he closed his eyes, unable to meet her gaze. Somehow this was all going wrong. He had been so ecstatic at first. Being human he could be with her, like he had always dreamed but never believed it could happen. Now, though, he realized that being human entailed almost as many, if not more problems than being a vampire.  
  
Buffy was the Slayer, would be as long as she lived. She had human friends who helped her, yes, but no one to fight by her side as an equal. He had been that equal until circumstances had forced them apart. Now those were gone, but he was no longer her equal. He could be with her now, but only to a point. She would have to go into battle alone and it would kill her sooner rather than later.  
  
"We will be," he whispered back, wrapping an aching arm around her slender form. "No matter what happens, we will be." The alternative was unthinkable.  
  
Exhaustion began to claim him, his wounds and the warm presence by his side pulling him under. There had to be some way to solve this, some way he could be with her in all ways, in all things, for better or worse.  
  
"You will be given a chance very soon", the Oracle's words echoed through his mind as he finally fell asleep in Buffy's arms.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	10. After the Big Silence

Part 9: After the Big Silence by Philip S.  
  
Summary: Buffy Summers and her friends have survived high school and are off to college. Apart from dorm problems and snotty professors, though, there are troubles of the more lethal kind. Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: Buffy and associated characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Original characters appearing in this story are copyright Yours Truly. Archive: Story will be archived at www.shadow-dancing.com. Everyone else who wants to archive this, just ask. Title Picture: www.shadow-dancing.com/Pics/Buffy_College_One.jpg  
  
#  
  
And here she had thought her life was spiraling out of control before, Buffy mused.  
  
Everything had changed so fast, so very fast. She had gone to Los Angeles to chew Angel out for visiting Sunnydale without telling her. He had come riding in like the dark knight in not-so-shining armor to save the not-so- helpless damsel in distress and then vanished again, trying to cover up his tracks by making her best friends lie to her.  
  
Good thing they had never been able to do that. If they had she would never have gone to Los Angeles. Never been there to see Angel change the way he did. Human, she thought with a broad smile blooming on her face. He was human now. They were back together, or rather together for the first time, really together. Memories of the two nights they had spent together still made her tingly all over.  
  
He was still in Los Angeles, of course. There were a lot of loose ends he had to tie up before he could come home to her. Home. She liked the sound of that. Maybe they should be looking for a place to move in together. Buffy was, at all times, aware that being the Slayer entailed a shorter life than most people and she wanted to spend every free second of it with him.  
  
Something had been on his mind, though, had been even that final evening before she had to get back and they had made love for the last time. Was he still worried because of his poor performance against the Mhora? Buffy had to admit that it would be difficult to get used to Angel no longer fighting by her side. He had been her only true equal, the only one she could really trust to fight by her side and handle it. It had not been that way with Faith, the younger Slayer always too busy doing her own thing, fighting her own demons. With him, though, it had been perfect.  
  
If that was the only thing she lost in exchange for all the other things they now could do, though, she would accept it with a big smile on her face. It was worth it a hundred times over.  
  
She had barely gotten back to Sunnydale when more weirdness started. Her friends did not know yet about Angel, his turning human, or his coming back to Sunnydale. She did not know how to tell them. Maybe it would be best just to present them with fait accompli. Xander would probably throw a fit, but his opinion did not hold much weight with her, at least not where Angel was concerned. Willow would probably be supportive once she got over her hate-Angel-because-I'm-your-best-friend-and-he-hurt-you phase.  
  
Her true worry was Giles. Her Watcher had lost a lot to Angelus and, though he had tried, she knew he had never quite been able to forgive Angel. When Buffy had given Angel her blood in order to save his life he had been extremely upset with her, though he had never said anything about that, either. He did not have to. She had seen it in his eyes.  
  
Then there was her mother. She, too, had never been happy with her relationship to Angel. Buffy loved her mom, but that did not mean she was blind to some of her shortcomings, either. The main reason why Joyce had managed to remain oblivious about Buffy's life as the Slayer for so long had been her own desire to give her daughter the perfect life, the one she herself had never got. The perfect life with the perfect loving man. A man who was not a vampire.  
  
Well, Angel was not a vampire anymore, was he? Maybe that would be enough to win her mother over to her side.  
  
"Well ...," the man sitting on the bed opposite her said, pulling her back to the present. Right, there was that other problem she had almost managed to put out of her mind.  
  
Riley sat on Willow's bed, the dorm room around them almost as quiet as the entire town had been these last few days. It was over now. The Gentlemen, the demons who had stolen everyone's voices, had been defeated. In the process, though, she had learned some things about Riley. He had learned some things about her, too.  
  
"Wanna start?" she finally asked him. He had been the one to come around to talk, after all. Only they had spent the last ten minutes or so doing anything but that. For a moment she had wondered whether the Gentlemen had returned and taken both their voices again. In some ways that would have made things a lot easier.  
  
"I'm not sure where to start," he admitted. "I ... I haven't really managed to wrap my mind around everything that happened last night."  
  
Yeah, Buffy agreed, last night had definitely been one of the stranger nights, even in a life like hers. She had finally managed to find the Gentlemen's lair, had followed them and started beating the crap out of their hunchbacked minions, when someone else had arrived. Someone dressed in black combat gear, his face hidden behind a black ski mask and night vision goggles.  
  
She had seen men dressed like that before, of course. During Halloween they had come across a whole group of them, but had figured they were just dressed for the night. A few weeks later, though, she had run into one of them in the forest when she had been hot on the trail of Oz. He had delayed her, delayed her to the point where she had almost been too late to save Willow's life from a transformed Oz.  
  
Plus there were the things Giles had heard from his various sources, things about some sort of amateur demon hunters having taken up residence in Sunnydale. Willy's bar had been rife with rumors about them as well. To top it all of there had been that little fight with Spike in this very dorm room just a few weeks ago, the one where the vampire had quite thoroughly kicked black-clad ass.  
  
Seeing as they had been in the middle of a fight they had joined forces by unspoken agreement, taking out the demons and finally managing to destroy the Gentlemen as well. During the fight, though, one of the creatures had managed to smash her mysterious partner's goggles and rip off his mask, revealing a rather well-known face to her.  
  
Riley had recognized her as well, of course. Had seen her perform fighting moves that were above and beyond anything a normal human could do. Now he wanted answers. Well, so did she.  
  
"What are you?" Riley asked out of the blue.  
  
"Buffy Summers," she deadpanned. "Freshman. You?"  
  
"This isn't funny."  
  
"No, it isn't. What were you doing there last night, Riley? You could have gotten yourself really, really dead."  
  
She was surprised at how deeply that fear disturbed her. Riley was someone she considered a friend, though that might change now that she knew ... well, she did not know all that much, really, except that he was not what he had seemed. Still, the thought of him getting killed was not a good thing.  
  
"I would say the same about you, but somehow I got the impression that you were rather capable of handling everything these ... things threw at you. I mean ... I've seen a lot of good fighters, but you ..."  
  
"You didn't do too bad yourself," she said. Which was true, he had handled himself well ... for a normal human, at least. She could not help but think back to Angel again. Angel, who was also human now. Angel, who had also nearly gotten himself killed fighting demons.  
  
"Thanks," Riley did off her comment. "But I don't think I managed to throw these things for a loop with a single punch. There is also the fact that I'm covered with bruises today and can barely walk. You seem right as rain."  
  
"Looks can be deceiving."  
  
"I bet."  
  
There was silence between them once more.  
  
"Let me take a wild guess here," Buffy finally restarted the conversation, realizing they had to go somewhere before they both died of old age. "You are not really a psych TA. From what I've seen you are a trained fighter and you carry a lot of equipment I've only seen in James Bond movies so far, so I'd say you are part of some sort of demon hunting group that has set up shop here in Sunnydale. That about right?"  
  
"I ... I'm not really allowed to talk about it," Riley looked away, uncomfortable.  
  
"The way I see it," she continued, "you are either part of some underground organization that has taken it upon themselves to rid the world of evil," she was thinking of a certain England-based bunch of snotty bastards, "or you work for some sort of government agency that has finally noticed that Sunnydale is the murder capital of America and decided to do something about it. Door number one or two, Riley?"  
  
The young man sighed deeply. "I would be a lot more comfortable with this if I knew at least a little bit about you in return, Buffy. Until yesterday I thought you were a normal college girl and now ..."  
  
"I am a normal college girl," she interrupted him. "I just ... I have some unusual hobbies."  
  
"Like demon hunting?"  
  
Buffy tried to figure out how to go about this. Riley had not confirmed any of the theories that she and Giles had come up with regarding the black- clad commando guys, but neither had he denied them. From the look on his face he was reluctant to reveal anything and extremely uncomfortable with her knowing even as little as she did.  
  
"I'm not a vampire or something," she told him, "if that was what you were thinking."  
  
"I figured that much, seeing as I've seen you in the sunlight a couple of times. But you can't tell me that there isn't something ... unusual about you. No human being could have done the things you did last night."  
  
"I am human," she emphasized. God knew she had been internally debating that point often enough. "I'm just a little ... well, I've got a little something extra, you might say."  
  
"And that would be?"  
  
She did not know whether she could trust him. A day ago she would have said yes, would have said he was a nice guy with nothing to hide and a nice smile. Someone she might have fallen for if her heart had not been given away long ago. Now, though, she knew that he had been hiding things, living behind a mask. Who knew how much of that mask she might be looking at even now. Was Riley even his real name?  
  
Still, she could not exactly throw stones about the hiding and he had been fighting those demons, not been in league with them. If the rumors they had heard were true then these demon hunters were doing their part, however small, to make Sunnydale safer.  
  
Giles would probably chew her out for this, but Buffy decided to trust her instincts.  
  
"I'm the Slayer," she told Riley.  
  
Riley did not manage to keep the look of surprise from his face completely. The Slayer? The vampire Spike had muttered endlessly about someone or something called the Slayer while he had been their prisoner. He had come up with an impressive amount of things he would do to this Slayer the moment he got free. None of them had had any idea what a Slayer was, but considering that the vampire had obviously not been very fond of it Riley was tempted to place it on the side of the good guys until evidence to the contrary presented itself.  
  
Only now 'it' turned out to be Buffy?  
  
"I ... I heard some rumors about someone called the Slayer," he said carefully, hoping to disguise how little he really knew. "Some vampires were talking about ..."  
  
"Let me guess," Buffy interrupted him again. "Not my biggest fans."  
  
"Not really, no."  
  
"Let me give you the short version, Riley. I'm the Slayer. I kill vampires and demons for a living. I'm stronger and faster than your average human so I can do it well. Sunnydale is keeping me mighty busy, so I'm not ungrateful for any kind of help. Still, I would really like to know what kind of help it is I'm getting from you and yours."  
  
Riley just stared at her, obviously struggling to make sense of everything she was telling him. A part of her was busy berating her for just spilling her secrets like this, but her instincts were telling her that Riley was a good guy and she trusted them. For now, at least.  
  
"I ... I really can't tell you anything, Buffy. I'm not allowed to ..."  
  
"Okay, fine. Let me tell you something, though, Riley!" She stood, walking closer to him. "I saw your guys fighting against Spike, right here in this room. Were you there?"  
  
He nodded and a pang went through her heart. She had seen what Spike had done to the commandos that night. If she had arrived any later it would not have gone down without casualties.  
  
"He almost killed you. All of you. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you came because otherwise Willow would probably have ended up dead, but ... correct me if I'm mistaken, but you haven't been all that effective in your demon hunting mission so far, have you?"  
  
Slowly he nodded again.  
  
"I thought so. Riley, this is not a game, okay? Most of the things out there are a lot stronger than humans and perfectly willing to make a meal out of you. As I said, I'm glad for every bit of help I get, but if the only thing the help manages is to get itself killed then it isn't really worth the effort is it?"  
  
Riley did not know what to say, just stared at her. Buffy could not help but think of another man, now human as well, who had almost gotten himself killed fighting demons with nothing but human strength and determination on his side. A man who, she was almost certain, would do it again because that was simply the way he was.  
  
The very thought of losing him ...  
  
"I don't want to see you dead, Riley," she told him, though her words, she realized, were really meant for someone else. "Maybe ... maybe you should think about giving up this job."  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	11. There's a New King in Town

Part 10: There's a New King In Town  
  
#  
  
Rupert Giles was up late, going over the latest information Buffy had apprised him off. They had spent quite a few hours these last few weeks theorizing about these black-clad commandos who kept popping up in Sunnydale to make life a little bit more difficult for the local demonkind. None of their theories had been validated so far, but they were a bit smarter now than they had been yesterday  
  
Riley Finn, Buffy's psych TA, was one of the commandos.  
  
Truth to tell Giles was a bit angry at his Slayer for simply spilling her secret to the young man, but he had to admit that she usually had good instincts when it came who to trust and who not to. Besides, seeing as Riley had already seen her perform superhuman feats in battle against the Gentlemen creatures there really was not that much left to hide and it was better this way. God alone knew what he and his associates might have tried to do if he had thought her to be some sort of demon.  
  
Something else was preoccupying Buffy apart from that, though. Giles knew her long enough to recognize that. Buffy was not a good liar and neither was she particularly proficient at keeping secrets from him. The last time she had been preoccupied like this she had hidden Angel from them, shortly after his return from Hell. Maybe it had to do with Angel again? It had started after she returned from Los Angeles after all.  
  
He banished those thoughts from his mind. True, he had been very angry with her for concealing Angel's presence, but he himself had done worse less than a year ago when he had drugged her for the Council's stupid test. No, he had to trust her to know what was right and had promised himself never to second-guess her again unless he had something concrete to worry about.  
  
For the moment he should concentrate on those commandos Riley worked for. Maybe Willow could find out something by way of her computer skills. She had tried before, but without any kind of lead to start with she had come up empty. Maybe she could take a look at Riley's personal files and then ...  
  
The ringing of the phone distracted him from his train of thoughts. Picking up the receiver he expected Buffy or one of her friends to call him. Or maybe that nice young woman he had met a few nights ago when he had been playing guitar at the coffee bar.  
  
He certainly did not expect to hear the voice of his former boss on the other end of the line.  
  
"Hello, Rupert," Quentin Travers said.  
  
"Quentin. This is something of a surprise."  
  
"I know. Listen, Rupert, there is something you should be aware of. Something concerning the Slayer."  
  
Giles sat down on the couch with the receiver still in hand, an angry frown beginning to form on his face.  
  
"She no longer works for you, Quentin. I had thought she made that quite clear."  
  
"She did, yes. This is not about her quitting the Council, though I guess you can imagine that no one around here is particularly happy about her decision."  
  
"You have no one but yourself to blame."  
  
"Rupert, please! Let us put our animosities aside for the moment. Something rather more important has come up with."  
  
Giles sighed, leaning back. He had a lot of problems with Quentin Travers and the older man's methods and opinions regarding the fight against the dark, but they were still fighting on the same side, more or less.  
  
"Okay, I'm listening."  
  
"How much do you know about the Huntsman, Rupert?"  
  
Giles frowned. The Huntsman? He dimly remembered having read something about an entity called the Huntsman once. Must have been a long time ago, as the memory eluded him.  
  
"I've heard the name before, but I don't really know ..."  
  
"I will be sending you the necessary documents, Rupert. We are ... we are not quite certain how big of an emergency this actually is, but we want to be prepared for the worst."  
  
"The worst? Quentin, what is this about? What is the Huntsman and why does it concern us here in Sunnydale?"  
  
There was a moment's hesitation on the other end of the line.  
  
"The Council has decided," Quentin finally said, his voice making clear that 'the Council' did not include him in this particular instance, "as a reaction to the Slayer's desertion, to activate a new supernatural agent to aid our cause. The Huntsman is that agent. Unfortunately Jackson King, the host of the Huntsman, has disappeared several days ago. We ... we believe that he will be heading for Sunnydale to ... meet the Slayer."  
  
For a moment Giles was speechless, just trying to assimilate all this information. The Council had created some alternative to the Slayer? How? And they had lost him?  
  
"Why ... why would he be coming here?"  
  
"I am afraid there is no short version to this story, Rupert. You will be receiving all the relevant information by express mail no later than tomorrow, it will answer all questions you have. Just keep one thing in mind! The Slayer and the Huntsman must not meet!"  
  
"Why ...?"  
  
"It's essential, Rupert! Jackson King must not find Buffy Summers, is that clear? The results could be ... catastrophic."  
  
Giles had a hundred more questions to ask, but Quentin Travers hung up on him. For a moment the former Watcher positively seethed with anger at the arrogance of his former boss, still ordering him around as if he had not fired him about eight months ago.  
  
There had been true desperation in Quentin's voice, though. The older Watcher was genuinely afraid of something, that much was clear.  
  
Giles looked at his watch and sighed. He doubted he would be able to find much sleep now, not with Quentin stirring him up like he just had.  
  
"The Huntsman," he mumbled, racking his brain to remember where he had read that before. Approaching his book shelf, the one that held all the books they had saved from the destruction of Sunnydale High, he brushed his fingers across the leather-bound book backs.  
  
"A supernatural agent," he continued mumbling to himself. "Something the Council might use as an alternative to the Slayer."  
  
He finally selected a few volumes and settled back down on his couch to read.  
  
#  
  
The early morning bus pulled into the Sunnydale Greyhound station and came to a stop. Grabbing his bag from the empty seat beside him the young man got up, pausing after his first step off the bus to draw in the air of his new home.  
  
Yes, this was definitely the right place. Everything inside him was screaming that it was so, his senses wide open and alert to draw in the multitude of sensations this town had to offer. So much evil gathered in so small a place.  
  
So much to destroy.  
  
Jackson King closed his eyes and concentrated on all the new senses he had come to possess just a few short weeks ago. Every night since then he had had strange dreams, visions that finally pulled him away from the Watchers and here to America, to this town, to the blonde girl he somehow knew lived here.  
  
The Slayer. She was here, there was no doubt about it. He had to find her, had to be with her. He was not sure why, not sure what it was that connected them, but neither did he care. He was drawn to her like a moth to the flame and now, with her presence singing in his blood, he felt stronger and more powerful than ever.  
  
Opening his eyes again he laid out his plans. First he would get a place to rest, a motel would suffice. Then, as soon as the sun went down, he would go out and find her.  
  
#  
  
Across town Buffy tossed and turned in her sleep, her dreams invaded by a vision of a young man with short brown hair who looked at her with an intensity that made her skin burn, that caused things low in her body to tighten with anticipation.  
  
When she finally woke she was drenched with sweat and shivering so violently that Willow was by her side in an instant, hugging her close and asking whether she was all right.  
  
It was a question Buffy could not answer.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	12. Answers, Requests, and Decisions

Part 11: Answers, Requests, and Decisions  
  
#  
  
Angel hit the mats hard, the air driven from his lungs by the impact. Some things about being human really stank, he muttered to himself. Things like this unfamiliar need to breathe, like the sweat that was pouring down his face, or the painful presence of the bruises he had received today.  
  
"I think I know what the problem is," his opponent said, offering him a hand to pull him up.  
  
Looking at the woman who had just sent him tumbling to the mat Angel thought back a few weeks. Mara Shilow was a martial arts instructor, one of the best according to what he had heard. They had met when one of Doyle's visions had sent him her way, saving her from a vampire attack. He had been impressed by her fighting skills, though they had not been too much use fighting creatures that simply brushed off blows that would have hospitalized normal men.  
  
She had seen his true face during the fight and he had given her an abridged version of who and what he was. They had met once more since then, Angel having gotten the idea of her giving Cordelia and Doyle some fighting training after the two of them had nearly gotten killed when beset by a vampire when he had not been there. Angel was an accomplished martial artist himself, but doubted his ability to teach his moves to someone with mere human or even half-demon strength.  
  
Now he himself had nothing but mere human strength to rely on and needed to know whether he was still able to hold his own. From the thrashing he had just received he rather doubted it, though.  
  
"How long have you been ... different?" Mara asked. She was still getting used to the idea that vampires and such existed, trying to avoid mentioning them whenever possible.  
  
"A long time," he just said.  
  
"That's what I thought. Did you get any fighting training before you got all that super strength to play with?"  
  
"Not really, no. I was ... I fought a lot, bar brawls and such, but never got any professional training until much later."  
  
She nodded, apparently having her suspicions confirmed.  
  
"I've seen cases like yours before," she said, then quickly amended, "not exactly like yours, of course. One of my own trainers was the best fighter I ever met. Then he lost his left arm in the Gulf War. It took him a long time to regain even a portion of his old skill level."  
  
"He couldn't adapt?"  
  
"Exactly. He had become so set in his fighting style that changing it, accommodating the lack of a limb, was almost impossible. Your case is even more extreme, Angel. You've had superhuman strength for God knows how long and much of your fighting style relies on that strength. Your body ... remembers being able to do things and tries to keep doing them, even though it can't do them any longer."  
  
Angel nodded, knowing what she meant. Just a week or so ago he would have had no trouble flipping over Mara's head in the blink of an eye. When he had tried it a few minutes ago he had almost managed to crack his skull open. His legs simply did not have the necessary push anymore, his balance and reflexes were off as well. To speak nothing of his strength and speed.  
  
"I need to do something about that," he resolved. "Will you help me, Mara?"  
  
"Of course," she smiled at him. "I owe you my life; it's the least I can do. I have to warn you, though, it will take time. Ingrained skills like yours aren't changed in a day."  
  
He sighed, thinking of Buffy. Every day he spent apart from her was torment and not just because he missed her so much. Every day he was not by her side, able to hold his own, might be the day the Mhora's words came true.  
  
"Then let's start," he told Mara, resolve in his eyes. "I don't have as much time as I used to."  
  
#  
  
"You are certain about this?"  
  
Riley watched as Burke spoke to their superior over the video phone, the weathered face of associate CIA director James Mason looking back at him from the screen. With the discovery of the supernatural threat the Central Intelligence Agency had quickly created a new department, naming it 'Special Domestic Operations'. So far this new department had nothing but a skeleton staff and no experience to speak of, but a budget that would make the senate scream if it knew about it.  
  
"Now that we have a better idea what to look for," Burke explained to his superior, "we found quite a few notes on the Slayer in the files we confiscated from the late Mayor Wilkins. It confirms what Ms. Summers told Agent Finn."  
  
Mason shook his head. Sometimes the unreality of what they were dealing with really got to him.  
  
"So this girl is ... what? A supernatural defender of the world?"  
  
"That's what it says, yes," Burke confirmed. "I wouldn't believe it myself, but Agent Finn saw her fight. She is definitely stronger, faster, and tougher than any normal human being has the right to be, sir."  
  
Mason nodded. He, too, had known about the supernatural for but a few months now and had adopted something of a 'I'll-believe-anything-for-now' philosophy of dealing with his new job. It was the only way to go about it that would not drive him mad within the year.  
  
"After your initial report our analysts put together a preliminary file on Ms. Summers," Mason said, taking the folder lying on his desk. "By all accounts she seems to be a rather normal young woman, though prone to get into trouble. She was suspected of murder about one and a half years ago, but the charges were dropped a short time later. She also burned down the gym of her first High School, it seems."  
  
"Knowing what we do about her it does not come as a surprise that she got herself in trouble now and then, does it?"  
  
"No, it does not."  
  
Mason briefly looked through the folder, then put it aside again.  
  
"You are the man on the spot, Burke. What is your recommendation we do about Ms. Summers?"  
  
Burke turned to glance at Riley for a moment. They had discussed Buffy Summers' words to him quite thoroughly during the day.  
  
"Sir, Ms. Summers brought up a very good point, I fear. So far our men have not done well containing the supernatural threat in this town. These creatures are too strong and too vicious to deal with them the way we have done so far. The way I see it we have two alternatives on how to proceed."  
  
"Those would be?"  
  
"Number one, we could escalate our activities here. Bring in heavier weaponry, more men. These things are tough, sir, but only very few of them use any kind of modern weaponry. If we outfit our men with stronger ordnance we can take care of things."  
  
The thought of taking out a nest of vampires with a rocket launcher somehow appealed to Riley, he had to admit, no matter what his psychology training might say about that idea.  
  
"That would almost certainly cause the public to take notice, will it not?" Mason asked.  
  
"That is the downside of it, yes. Which brings me to our second alternative."  
  
Once again Burke glanced at Riley. It had been his idea, truth be told, and though Burke had some misgivings about it, he could not dispute its potential gain.  
  
"Sir, if what we have learned about Ms. Summers is true, then what we have here is an individual with years of experience in successfully fighting these creatures. She is still alive, which is no easy feat after what I've seen these last few months, and even more importantly she has done it with hardly anyone noticing it. This is a resource we should exploit."  
  
Mason stared at him. "Burke, this operation is classified a dozen levels above top secret. Are you honestly proposing that we involve a civilian in it?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
The associate director sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes for a moment. Then he looked past Burke at Riley.  
  
"Agent Finn, you are acquainted with Ms. Summers, correct?" He nodded. "What is your opinion on this?"  
  
"I believe, sir, that she could be a tremendous asset to our operation. I have seen her fight and she is more capable than any of our operatives here, including myself. I believe she is also deeply committed to fighting these creatures. Convincing her to work with us will not be easy, I suspect, but the potential gain from having her on our side is enormous, sir."  
  
Mason kept looking at him for a long moment, then reluctantly nodded.  
  
"Very well, I see your point. I will discuss this option with director Tenet. Considering the implications I suspect that even the big boss will have to have a word in this."  
  
Riley managed to keep from stiffening. Mason wanted to carry his proposal all the way into the oval office? Maybe this had not been such a great idea after all.  
  
"I will get back to you as soon as I have a decision," Mason finally said. "If we do approach Ms. Summers I want you to make certain that the paperwork is in order. Sign the non-disclosure agreement, swear her to secrecy, the usual. Agent Burke, I want your teams to keep an eye on her. From your report I assume she does not know too much about our operation yet, but I don't want anyone else to learn even that little, understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
The screen went dark and Burke sighed.  
  
"That went better than expected, actually." He looked at Riley. "If this works out I'll get you a medal, son."  
  
"I didn't know the president was directly involved," Riley muttered, still in a bit of a shock. "He's gonna go to the president with this?"  
  
"What did you expect? Looks to the contrary this is one of the most important covert operations you'll ever hear conspiracy theories about, Riley. And unlike what you may read in the tabloids the president is very much aware of all the things we're doing in our little spook show."  
  
"Do you think they'll agree?"  
  
"I have no idea, Riley. If they do, though, things are going to get mighty interesting around here, that much I can assure you."  
  
Riley could not help but remember that the phrase "May you live in interesting times" was generally considered a curse.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	13. Buffy Summers, Secret Agent?

Part 12: Buffy Summers, Secret Agent?  
  
#  
  
Buffy Summers was not a happy camper. This had several different reasons, but chief among them was the continued absence of a certain male individual who had, until very recently, been numbered among the walking dead. Said man had also promised her that he would follow her to Sunnydale soon. Granted, they had never quite defined what exactly he meant by 'soon', but Buffy was quite certain that two weeks did not qualify anymore.  
  
Not that they were completely out of contact with each other, no. They talked on the phone almost every night, long conversations that made Buffy glad her boyfriend was rather well-off money-wise, as the bills were no doubt quite impressive. Still, talking to him on the phone was not the same as having him by her side and Angel kept evading her when she asked him when he would finally come.  
  
She would have packed her bags and gone off to Los Angeles to drag him back herself if not for several things that kept her busy at the moment. Not least among them her studies, which took up a rather indecent amount of her time and made her think hard about switching religions just so she could stick pins into voodoo dolls made to resemble some of her professors.  
  
Giles had also told her of some new menace coming toward Sunnydale, something the Watchers Council had warned him of no less. They had sent him a huge amount of information to wade through, so he was not a hundred percent on the up and up about it yet, but he had told enough to worry her.  
  
The Huntsman. As far as she had been able to make sense of his lectures it was something like a wandering spirit with certain similarities to the Slayer, taking over hosts and imbuing them with superior abilities. Only unlike the Slayer this Huntsman was very unpredictable, violent, and not necessarily as liable to care about the welfare of the human race.  
  
Apparently the Watchers had activated it when she had quit, hoping that it would give them someone new to order around. Unfortunately they had done so before decoding all the various information about it. An earlier generation of Watchers had apparently gone to great pains to make sure that their texts did not fall into the wrong hands and even now only half of what they had written was actually readable.  
  
One of the parts they had decoded only after freeing the Huntsman had said something along the lines of 'DO NOT OPEN UNTIL DOOMSDAY'. Fancier wording, of course, but that was the gist of it. Giles was working day and night to decode the rest, as did the Watchers overseas, but it would take a while longer.  
  
Apparently Quentin Travers feared that the Huntsman, a young man called Jackson King, would come here to Sunnydale. He had not said why, probably because he did not know. One of the decoded texts said that the Slayer and the Huntsman should not be allowed to meet. Of course it did not say why. That would have been too easy, right?  
  
They had sent her a picture of Jackson King and Buffy had recognized the young man she had seen in her dreams a few nights ago. This actually disturbed her more than anything else, as her dreams had the bad habit of announcing bad things. The Master, Angelus, the Gentlemen, it did not constitute a good track record.  
  
Ever since she had had that dream she had felt uneasy. During patrols at night she was overcome by an almost perpetual case of Goosebumps, the hairs on the back of neck standing at constant attention. It a bit like when Angel had still been up to his stalker ways, but it could not possibly be him. He was still in Los Angeles after all and she doubted that he was still as light of step as he had been back then.  
  
A dozen times or so these last few nights she had attempted to catch whoever might be stalking her, but without any luck. Maybe she was just imagining it. Maybe her worry about Angel and all this talk about the Huntsman was driving her batty.  
  
Then there was Riley.  
  
"What is this?" she asked, eyeing the piece of paper he had put in her hand.  
  
Riley had called her a few hours ago, asking her to meet him at the Espresso Pump. To her surprise he had not come alone, though. He was accompanied by another man, older, his face hidden behind a scruffy beard and what seemed to be a perpetual scowl. Riley had yet to introduce them, instead he had begun their conversation by asking her to sign a form.  
  
"It's a non-disclosure agreement," he told her. "Basically it says that you will not repeat a word said here today to anyone. If you do you will be brought up on criminal charges."  
  
She read through the document, finding it surprisingly short and straight. Open your mouth and we will throw the book at you. A really big, heavy book. For a moment she considered simply ripping it apart and leaving, angry that Riley did not trust her after she had told him who and what she was. It had probably not been his idea, though. Buffy had but a quarter semester of psychology to draw on, but she had no trouble realizing that the man beside Riley was his superior.  
  
With a sigh she signed her name below the form and handed it back.  
  
"Do I get a copy?"  
  
"A copy of what?" the scowler asked with a perfectly serious expression, the form already vanished inside his briefcase.  
  
"Can we get down to business now?" Buffy leaned back and studied the two man.  
  
"Yes, we can. First allow me to introduce myself. My name is Thomas Burke and I am the agent in charge of this operation."  
  
"Operation?"  
  
"Killing demons," he simply said. "I will not go into too much details right now, but suffice to say that we are working for the government. It's our job to make sure that the creatures in this town are stopped and we would very much like to do so without the American public becoming aware of it in the process."  
  
"Just a tip," Buffy smirked at him. "Don't let your agents storm occupied dorm rooms in full combat armor."  
  
Burke frowned, but otherwise did not react.  
  
"Agent Finn here," he motioned at Riley, "told me of your little talk a few days ago. Though it saddens me to say this, you were quite right. My men are inexperienced and unprepared for this mission and things are not going well for us."  
  
Buffy managed to keep a more or less neutral face despite her surprise. She had expected something like being admonished for interfering in some kind of all-important black ops spook operation, not an admittance of the facts.  
  
The government guys in X-Files were a lot different.  
  
"So you will call it all off?" she asked the man called Burke. "I'm kinda sad to see that. Every little bit helps. But I guess it's better than ..."  
  
"You misunderstand me, Ms. Summers," Burke interrupted her. "I do not intend to call off this mission. Quite the contrary, actually. I am more convinced than ever that these creatures need to be contained. Eliminated completely, if possible."  
  
"But then what ...?"  
  
"I am authorized to offer you a position as a civilian consultant, Ms. Summers."  
  
For a long moment she just stared at him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Ms. Summers, in the last few days we have managed to gather quite a bit of information about you and have come to the conclusion that your input would be invaluable to our operation. You have more experience fighting these creatures than anyone else we are aware of. To make it short ... we want you on our team."  
  
"Uncle Sam wants me?" Buffy giggled saying that, but she felt anything but amused. Shocked was more like it.  
  
"You would, of course, be compensated quite nicely," Burke continued as if he was conducting a job interview for the local supermarket. "Absolute secrecy would have to be maintained, of course, but ..."  
  
"Wait, wait! Slow down for a minute, okay?"  
  
Burke complied as Buffy closed her eyes and just breathed for a moment, trying to make sense of it all. Some kind of government spook operation wanted her to work for them? To help them kill demons? They would PAY for her help?  
  
The government guys in X-Files were a lot different.  
  
"What ... what would this 'consultant' thing entail?" she finally managed to ask.  
  
"Basically we want you to show us how to kill demons," Burke said nonchalantly. "Our operatives are among the best-trained fighters in the world, but most of them have never even suspected that vampires and other demons exist, much less know how to handle them. We have very little hard data on these creatures. What their vulnerabilities and habits are, how they think. Every little thing you could tell us about them would be a great help to us."  
  
Buffy sat back, thinking. What Burke was telling her seemed almost too good to be true. The Watchers had never paid her, nor given her any kind of support system except Giles and his books. Now she was asked to train a group of trained combatants, show them how to kill vampires. Not only would this make her own job much easier, they would also PAY her for it.  
  
Definitely too good to be true.  
  
"I will have to think about this," Buffy finally said.  
  
"I understand," Burke nodded. "I would appreciate it, though, if you could reach a decision quickly. This operation is of high importance for national security and quite a few highly-placed people are hoping you will take us up on our offer."  
  
"How highly placed?" Buffy asked, intrigued.  
  
"I am afraid that is classified. At least for now. I hope you understand that, until we have your decision, there is only so much I can tell you. Contact Riley when you have decided."  
  
Burke was starting to rise.  
  
"One other thing," Buffy said, causing him to sit down again. "If I agree to this, then I want another person included in this deal."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yes! I don't know how much you have found out about the Slayer, but it's always a package deal."  
  
"Package?"  
  
Buffy could not help but smile a little. It was almost funny how little these guys knew about the world they were immersing themselves in.  
  
"Every Slayer has a Watcher. Something like mentor, trainer, and teacher all rolled into one. He is the guy with the books who knows all the demon trivia, handed down from God knows how far back in the stone age. If I decide to take you up on your offer he will have to be in on it."  
  
"This is a bit unexpected," Burke said after thinking for a moment. "We will have to discuss this with our superiors. What is the name of your Watcher?"  
  
Buffy was about to say Giles' name, but then thought better off it.  
  
"Let me talk to him first, okay? I want to get his input on this before we go any further."  
  
Burke obviously was not a hundred percent happy with this, but apparently decided that he could not admonish her for her secrecy. He was not sharing everything with her yet, either.  
  
"Very well, talk to your ... Watcher. I will try and sell the idea to my superiors. Before we can agree to this, Ms. Summers, we will have to run him through a security check, of course. I hope you understand."  
  
"Totally."  
  
"I hope to hear from you soon then."  
  
Buffy had hoped to talk with Riley for a minute in private, but he rose together with Burke, stopping just long enough to pay for their coffees.  
  
The government guys in X-Files sure were a lot different than these guys.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	14. Midnight Phone Calls

Part 13: Midnight Phone Calls  
  
#  
  
"So what do you think?"  
  
Buffy cradled the phone to her head as she sat cross-legged on her dorm room bed. Willow was still at the library, studying late as she so often did these days. All to distract herself from the pain of losing Oz. Buffy was convinced the redhead was not getting enough sleep, but she could understand it. The first month or two after Angel had left her she had been afraid to sleep, too.  
  
"It's hard to say," Angel's voice rang out from the phone. "It sounds like a great opportunity, but ..."  
  
"Yeah, but ...," she agreed. They had both seen too much to believe in good things that came without some kind of catch.  
  
"I will try and call in a few old favors," Angel said after a moment of silence. "Maybe I can find out a little bit more about this government operation. Has Willow found anything on her computer?"  
  
"She managed to get a look at Riley's files here on campus. Born in Iowa, farm boy through and through. Psychology major. No trace of any military career, nor that he is working for any kind of government agency. Willow even called his parents in Iowa, just to check whether they actually exist. They do; she says they're pretty nice people and love to talk about their son."  
  
"Most of what is in his file is probably accurate. The best lies are those that stick closest to the truth."  
  
She nodded, trying to stifle the longing of having him here with her, sitting on the bed, instead of a hundred miles away at the other end of a phone line.  
  
"What does Giles think about the whole thing?" Angel asked.  
  
"Well, once he got over being flustered he tried to approach things rationally, which pretty much led to stuttering and repeated questions whether or not I thought I was doing the right thing trusting Riley. If I had a good answer to that I would have a lot fewer problems."  
  
There was a pause at the other end and Buffy wondered whether Angel might feel a little bit jealous about her relationship with Riley, if one could call it that. She had considered him a friend, though she was aware that he wanted more than that from her. Now she simply was not sure what to think about him, though some part of her was quite smug with pride that they were asking her to join their team and show them how it was done.  
  
If only she could be sure that their offer was genuine.  
  
"I told him I would not be doing this without him," Buffy added. "If I get to be secret agent Buffy than he has to be secret agent Giles."  
  
"You did the right thing there," Angel assured her. "And if their offer is indeed genuine than they should be happy to get someone with such a deep knowledge of the demonic as Giles."  
  
"Plus it might get him off his slacker couch once in a while. He really needs a job."  
  
They both laughed. Angel's laugh was a beautiful thing, Buffy thought, even more precious because she heard it all too seldom. God, how she missed his presence.  
  
"How goes the training?" she asked, wanting to change the topic for a bit.  
  
Angel had told her that he was getting martial arts training in Los Angeles. At first she had been rather upset about that, both because it meant he was going to take longer to get back to Sunnydale and because he was going to a stranger in order to spar instead of doing it with her.  
  
His arguments had been solid, though. He needed to learn to fight without super strength and, seeing that she was the Slayer and used to him being as strong as she was, she had to agree that she was probably the wrong person to help him with that. The fact that he obviously still intended to fight by her side made her uneasy, but she could not honestly fault him for it. If their situations were reversed she would not be able to simply stay home and worry, either.  
  
"It goes slow, I fear," he told her honestly. "I'm still not used to my reduced speed and strength. Plus I've discovered that I've gotten into the habit of pulling my punches when fighting against a human."  
  
Buffy nodded, understanding. When one had enough strength to punch a hole into a brick wall one had to hold back when hitting a human, otherwise a single blow could well be fatal. When that strength was suddenly gone, though, that same habit could turn a knockout blow into a love tap that would produce nothing but laughs.  
  
"Any idea when you will be home?" she finally asked, completing the ritual. She asked him that question every time. He always evaded her, said something about he would come when he had wrapped things up in LA, when he completed his training, when he felt confident that Cordelia and Doyle would be okay without him.  
  
"I can't say," he admitted. "If you don't mind, though, I would like to come over for the weekend."  
  
"Really?" Buffy immediately perked up, not quite believing what she had just heard. "The whole weekend?"  
  
"I miss you, too, Buffy," he said softly.  
  
Happiness closed down her throat, made her unable to utter anything in reply. A few times these last two weeks she had woken up in the morning and wondered whether it might all have been a dream. Angel turning human, the two days they had spent together in LA, maybe even their nightly phone calls.  
  
Now, though, he would coming to Sunnydale. Only for a few days, granted, but he would be here. In the flesh.  
  
Where her friends would see him.  
  
They chatted on for a while, but Buffy was now preoccupied with a mixed feeling of anticipation and dread. Should she tell her friends now, before he came? Should she just walk up to them with Angel holding her hand in broad daylight?  
  
The combination of still hearing Angel's voice through the phone and her own racing thoughts proved potent enough to keep her from noticing the shiver that went down her spine, the hairs that stood up straight on her neck.  
  
She never noticed the dark shape that was watching her through the window of her dorm room.  
  
#  
  
Jackson King was confused.  
  
It was not really that strange a state for him as of late. His life had changed completely that day in South America when he had been chosen as the Huntsman. He felt different, he thought different, sometimes he even wondered whether he was still the same person at all. Maybe Jackson King had died that day and he was just walking around in his body, carrying his memories.  
  
Most of the time, though, his thoughts were occupied by other things.  
  
For several days now he had followed the girl around the town, his eyes watching every move she made, his senses drinking in her presence. It was her, there was no doubt in his mind about that. She was the Slayer and her name, as he had learned from overhearing a conversation, was Buffy.  
  
She was the Slayer and he had come here to find here, to be with her, to satisfy some indefinable urge that only her presence could quell. Yet somehow it had not worked out quite the way he had imagined it to.  
  
It was not so much something he knew, but rather something he felt he should know. He had read that, once a new girl was chosen as the Slayer, she simply knew things. How to handle a stake, how to find a vampire's heart, how to fight any number of demonic creatures without ever having learned how to do it. Maybe this was something similar? If it was, though, it was off.  
  
Somewhere deep inside his mind he had played out their meeting a hundred times already, certain that it would go down exactly this way. He would approach her, find her, and she would feel his presence. They would be drawn together, unable to resist each other, and then ... well, he had never been too clear on what would happen then, but he was certain that events would play out the way they were supposed to. All this was destined, that much he knew. Or thought he knew.  
  
Only things had not gone down that way. He had approached her, watched her from the shadows. She felt his presence, it was evident in the way she tensed whenever he got close. Sometimes her eyes would scurry the darkness for him, try to find him. They never did, though, and after some time she always shrugged and went about her business. And he, well, he never showed himself to her, though he could not really say why.  
  
Something was off about her, about him, about what should have happened between them the moment he first saw her. It was as if he was waiting for something, some sort of circuit that should close between them, a click that would make everything clear as day. Only it had not happened and he did not know why. It was certainly not made easier by the fact that he had absolutely no clue as to what should be happening.  
  
Unfortunately for him he did not know what to do now, so he decided to just keep up what was quickly becoming his routine. There was not really any alternative to it. Even though things had not happened they way they should have he knew that leaving Sunnydale was not an option for him. The very thought of leaving the Slayer behind and going elsewhere was enough to cause him almost physical pain.  
  
He would stay. He would keep following her. And maybe ... maybe whatever it was that kept them apart would simply go away.  
  
It just had to.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	15. Lesson the First

Part 14: Lesson the First  
  
#  
  
The decision, in the end, was a pragmatic one.  
  
After some long hours of talking things through Giles and Buffy had agreed that, seeing as Burke, Riley, and company already knew quite a bit about her, the best thing for them to do was to find out as much as they could about them in turn. The easiest method to do that was by joining up. If things turned out fine, just great, if they did not ... well, then they would have to think of something.  
  
Buffy called Riley and gave him Giles' name for that security check Burke had wanted. It took but another two days for Riley to call them back and say that things had checked out. The fact that Giles was not an American citizen had not made Burke all that happy, but in the end he had agreed that the potential gain of acquiring a thousand and more years' worth of demon knowledge was worth the extra trouble of getting security clearance for a foreigner.  
  
It was on Thursday, one day before Angel would come to Sunnydale, when Giles and Buffy were invited for their first tour of Special Domestic Operations.  
  
"This is still a rather improvised location," Riley told them as his car pulled into the warehouse. "Also that vampire Spike did a lot of damage when he escaped from us."  
  
Riley had told them about Spike's capture and escape, leading up to the battle in Buffy's dorm room. Buffy and Giles had silently agreed not to let Riley in on Spike's later fate for now, not that they themselves knew all that much about it. Their mission was to find out more about the commandos before unveiling any more secrets to them in turn.  
  
"Why a warehouse?" Buffy asked as they got out of the car. "I kinda expected something like a super-secret underground headquarters or such."  
  
"You've seen too many James Bond movies," Riley replied, smiling. "How do you suppose we could build something like that without everyone in Sunnydale noticing? Besides, why spend millions on fancy digs when all we need is a staging area. We're not planning to take over the world from here, just kill a few demons."  
  
They reached the deceptively run-down looking door in the back of the parking garage, the only thing suspicious about it its surprising solidity. Riley took a card out of his pocket and swiped it through a carefully hidden reader beside it.  
  
"When do we get cards of our own?"  
  
Riley did not answer, instead ushered them through the opening door and into the main area of the warehouse. It was not exactly what she had expected, Buffy thought, admittedly having imagined to find something out of a James Bond movie. Silver metal walls, high-tech gadgets, maybe some monorails for people to ride around the vast headquarters.  
  
What she saw instead was a rather mundane-looking warehouse that had received something of a face-lift recently. The walls remained gray and what few windows there were had been closed up tight.  
  
One side of the main area was stacked with boxes, a second glance revealing them to be some sort of pre-fabricated housing units. Right next to them were several rows of military-style lockers, one of them currently open with a black-clad young man taking several weapons from it.  
  
The far corner housed an improvised gym. The floor was covered with training mats, several pieces of workout equipment standing next to them. More lockers, as well as some more of those housing units. Probably showers, Buffy suspected.  
  
A metal staircase led up to a second floor of sorts, consisting mostly of a separate room that had probably started out as the warehouse manager's office some time ago. Through its windows Buffy could see several tables stacked with computers and phones, several people operating them.  
  
All in all the place looked a lot less science fiction and a lot more mundane than she had expected it to be. There were maybe a dozen people around at the moment, most of them dressed in civilian clothing. Most of them had turned to look at the newcomers.  
  
"Welcome to our humble abode, Ms. Summers," Burke came up to greet them. "Mr. Giles, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."  
  
Giles shook the offered hand, but said nothing in return for now. The Watcher's eyes were busy taking in the surroundings, lingering for a moment on the only other exit.  
  
"About three quarters of our current operation teams are here at the moment," Burke lead them toward the training area, where most of the people had gathered. "All of them hold some kind of day job here in town to avoid suspicion, so getting them all here at any one time can be a bit of a bother."  
  
Riley, walking ahead of them, was quickly approached by his friend Forrest.  
  
"You're kiddin' me, right?" he asked, seeing Buffy for the first time in the flesh. Riley had told him quite a bit about her, but from everything he had heard he had kind of imagined her to be ... taller. "This is the Slayer?"  
  
"In the flesh," Riley just said.  
  
"Listen up, people," Burke said, calling for everyone's attention. "As I've been telling you, we are getting some reinforcements here. This is Ms. Summers, the Slayer. You've all read the briefing documents, I trust? The gentleman to her right is Mr. Giles, her Watcher. I believe our research people are dying to sit down with him and talk shop."  
  
Buffy swept her gaze across the assembled agents. There were twelve of them at the moment, ten of them men, two women. All of them looked to be in top shape and ready for action, though some carried quite a few bruises from recent scraps.  
  
Most of them were giving her looks that ranged somewhere between skepticism and mild amusement.  
  
"Mr. Burke," Buffy addressed the senior agent, "would you mind if we start the day with a demonstration?"  
  
Burke looked down at her, a slight smile softening his perpetual scowl. He knew that most of his people would not accept such a little girl without seeing some kind of proof of her abilities. Riley vouching for her was one thing. Seeing her in action would be another. Besides, he had yet to see her in action himself and was rather looking forward to it.  
  
"Go right ahead, Ms. Summers," he motioned her forward. "They are all yours."  
  
Buffy smiled, then walked right onto the mat into the middle of the gathered agents. She was dressed in blue jeans and a simple white shirt, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, a picture of innocence and helplessness.  
  
"Let's start simple, shall we?" she addressed the others. "I'm a vampire, you need to kill me before I kill all of you."  
  
Someone chuckled, obviously amused by the notion of this girl taking on a dozen trained combatants all by her lonesome. The chuckle had barely begun when, without further warning, Buffy exploded into action.  
  
To their credit the operatives reacted quickly when the pretty little girl suddenly transformed into a whirlwind of punches and kicks. Only one of them went down before the others got over their surprise and started fighting back.  
  
It was a new situation for Buffy as well, she mused. Most of the times vampires ran in packs of no more than three or four members, if that many. Most of them did not have any fighting skills worth speaking of, though their superhuman strength and speed usually made up for that just fine. Seldom had she been forced to fight so many skilled opponents at the same time. Had they been vampires she would have been in quite a bit of trouble.  
  
As it was, though, she did just fine.  
  
The fight lasted three minutes before the final member of Burke's teams crashed into a corner, dazed and close to unconsciousness. Buffy stood in the middle of the training mats and contemplated her torn shirt with a pout. One of the agents had gotten a grip on it before she could knock him cold.  
  
"Now that was a slip-up," she sighed.  
  
"I see we need to work on your rear guard some more," Giles deadpanned.  
  
Burke was speechless. He had expected a lot after hearing Riley's accounts, but actually seeing it ... he would have to watch that fight in slow motion later, the cameras having recorded everything.  
  
"That was amazing, utterly amazing."  
  
Buffy turned to look at the newcomer standing beside Burke.  
  
"And you are ...?"  
  
"Daniel Weinheim," he quickly introduced himself, shaking her hand. "Agent in charge of research. I have to say I was skeptical at first despite reading about you in Richard Wilkins' files, but ..."  
  
"The Mayor had files on me?" Buffy asked, looking disgusted. "There were no photos in there, I hope? That guy was really sick!"  
  
"Ah ... no, no photographs. He did not even record your name, just ... well, some notes on how you were dangerous to his plans, but nothing that could not be dealt with in time."  
  
"Ah, how the mighty have fallen," Buffy sighed theatrically.  
  
"Agent Finn was not exaggerating, I see," Burke said, finally regaining his voice. "Those were our best people."  
  
"They weren't bad," Buffy admitted. "I think the basic problem is that they could not adapt to someone as small as me having such speed and strength. Unfortunately that is what they will face with most of the vampires out there, too. Turn a ten-year-old girl into a vampire, she'll be almost as strong as me and perfectly willing to put that strength to use."  
  
Riley, still grinning, went over to Forrest who was trying to get back to his feet just then. He had been taken out a minute into the fight, a roundhouse kick to his jaw having sent him flying into the wall.  
  
"Now that was humiliating," he mumbled, accepting Riley's hand to pull himself to his feet.  
  
"Told you," he just said.  
  
"Yeah, you did. Quit grinning!"  
  
Most of the agents were back on their feet a few minutes later, hurting for the most part, and no longer giving Buffy looks of amusement.  
  
"If I had been a vampire you'd all be dead," Buffy told them. "Vampires come in all shapes and sizes and their strength does not depend on their bulk or gender. Most of them have no trouble passing for human and got decades, sometimes centuries of fighting experience under their belts. They can be hurt, but they don't stay down unless you cut off their heads or ram a stake into their hearts.  
  
"None of you can match strength with a vampire, so don't try! Your best chance is to take them out from a distance. Bullets will slow them down, but only wood will kill them. Crossbows work just fine most of the time, though some vampires are fast enough to catch the arrows in mid-air. If that happens, run! Those are not the ones you want to tangle with.  
  
"If there is no other chance but to get close and personal, team up! At least three or four guys per vamp. Two or more holding him down, one doing the staking. Crosses can repel vampires to a certain degree, keep them from tearing you apart. Holy water works as well, though it's generally not fatal."  
  
Buffy took a breath, looking around to see whether everyone was listening. She felt a little strange to lecture these people, all of them were older than her, but it was good kind of strange. Maybe she could actually get to like this.  
  
"We will set up training sessions with Ms. Summers these next few weeks," Burke announced. "Mr. Giles, Ms. Summers, and myself will work out the program. Standard patrols will continue, but keep actual contact to a minimum for now. That's all!"  
  
Most of the agents headed for the showers, looking forward to soothe their aching bones. Buffy had barely worked up a sweat.  
  
"I would like to begin the training program as soon as possible," Burke told her. "We could start on Saturday and ..."  
  
"I kinda have plans on the weekend," Buffy interrupted him with a sheepish smile. "Can we start on Monday?"  
  
Giles gave her a strange look, unaware of any plans his charge had this weekend, but kept his silence for now. Burke frowned for a moment, but then nodded. It had been part of the agreement that Buffy would be able to schedule her own hours unless some kind of emergency came up.  
  
"Certainly. Mr. Giles, I hope you will be available for consultation before that, though. I believe Mr. Weinheim has about a million questions for you."  
  
The agent in charge of research nodded vehemently.  
  
"Certainly," the Watcher agreed. He rather hoped to receive some answers in turn.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	16. Encounters of the Heated Kind

Part 15: Encounters of the Heated Kind  
  
***THIS PART IS RATED Strong R***  
  
#  
  
Buffy skipped along the cemetery path, looking to finish her patrol early tonight. Her first meeting with Riley's people this afternoon had gone well, or so she thought, and tomorrow Angel would arrive in Sunnydale. She did not even worry about the whole telling-her-friends-that-Angel-was-human thing anymore. They would handle it and if her friends could not understand it, well, that would be their problem.  
  
Things were definitely looking up, she thought, and she was determined that nothing and no one would ruin the coming weekend for her. A moment later she chided herself for the thought. Sunnydale was definitely not a jinx- free part of the world.  
  
She quickly went over her mental list of current problems. Giles was still not a hundred percent sure whether or not Burke and his gang were on the level, but she had seen that the Watcher had been taken in by Weinheim's undisguised enthusiasm for the demonic. Until proof to the contrary presented itself Buffy was prepared to belief that they had done the right thing in joining up with the SDO (though she was determined to find a better name than that. There were too many three-letter acronyms in this world already).  
  
The only other thing currently on her list was this Huntsman thing the Council had warned them about, but so far the young man called Jackson King had not made an appearance in her life. Maybe the Watchers had been wrong about his coming here.  
  
About a minute later Buffy would condemn the universe for its very basic sense of the dramatic, for it chose that very moment to make the object of her thoughts appear right in front of her.  
  
She was in a fighting stance before she recognized the young man, the dark shape leaping from the tree with catlike grace sent all her instincts into full alert. He landed in front of her and stood up straight, looking her directly in the eye from less than a kick's distance away.  
  
He did not say anything, just looked at her. Buffy was about ready to throw a quip, followed by a punch, but somehow her mouth refused to work. Instead her eyes drank in the sight of her opposite. Dressed in a simple pair of blue jeans and a tight black shirt he was not the most impressive of sights, though quite handsome in a boyish way. His clean-shaven face and slightly pouting lips made him look younger than the eighteen years the Watchers' files had said he was.  
  
His gaze locked with hers and, impressive or not, Buffy felt her mouth go dry.  
  
"I've decided not to wait anymore," he told her, making a step forward.  
  
Buffy just stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. What was going on here? By now she should be moving, running her mouth, doing something ... anything. The Watchers had said that this man was dangerous, that meeting him would have dangerous consequences. Not that she trusted the Watchers much these days, but she would not simply disregard a warning from them, either.  
  
Her entire body was singing with tension, her heart hammering so violently that she feared it would break free of her chest. Her fists clenched and unclenched, sweat was beginning to form on her forehead even though she had barely moved a muscle.  
  
What was happening to her?  
  
"You feel it, too, don't you?" Jackson King asked, his voice barely more than a growl. He was panting, his face shimmering with sweat as well. She could see the muscles of his upper body tense under his tight shirt and she swallowed, unable to explain the strange reactions her body went through.  
  
"Feel what?" she finally managed to ask, her voice shaky.  
  
"Us," he answered, moving closer still. Barely a foot was between them now and she had to crane back her head to keep eye contact. "I've sought your presence across half the world. The Watchers did not want me to come here, but I knew that I had to."  
  
Buffy wanted to take a step back, wanted to flee from whatever this man was doing to her, but her body refused to obey. It was all she could do to make herself stand still instead of doing what her every instinct urged her to do.  
  
Which was quite the opposite of fleeing.  
  
"I can feel you in my blood," Jackson whispered, his hand slowly rising to reach out and touch her. "Can't you feel it, too?"  
  
She opened her mouth, wanted to deny feeling anything like that, but then his fingers softly touched her cheek. A white-hot sensation lanced through her body with that slight contact, pain and pleasure all wrapped together, and before she knew what was happening she leaped forward, tackling Jackson to the ground with a growl coming from her lips.  
  
He responded in kind, all reason vanishing from his face to be replaced by pure animal passion. They rolled across the ground, entangled with each other, each trying to gain the dominant position. Buffy's skin was humming wherever it touched Jackson, the barrier of their clothing insufficient to dampen the sensations. All conscious thought seemed to flee from her, nothing existed but this other, the one to whom every fiber of her being was calling out.  
  
Jackson ended up straddling her, his arousal evident against her pelvis, but she threw him off a moment later and was back on her feet, jumping him again. They tumbled backwards over a tombstone, crushing it beneath them as they struggled. Buffy dealt out blows without thinking, aware that they were not meant to defeat this opponent, just to show him her strength. Every contact seemed to spark electricity between them. Jackson responded, dishing out blows of his own, and she felt his strength where he hit her. He seemed ever bit as strong as she was. Every bit as fast, too.  
  
All sense of time was lost as they fought, paying no heed to their surroundings. They crashed right through the wall of a crypt, barely feeling the impact as brick and mortar gave before their power. Both were sweating profusely now, their body temperatures spiking in a fever that hailed from somewhere deep inside them.  
  
Buffy, her fingers curled into claws, ripped the black shirt off Jackson's chest, leaving four deep scratches on his skin in the process. His own fingers dug into the waistband of her jeans and she could hear the sound of fabric tearing.  
  
Suddenly they found themselves interrupted by a hissing sound and looked up to find three vampires approaching them, salvia dripping from their exposed fangs, hunger in their inhuman eyes. The crypt they had tumbled into was a nest for the undead and the inhabitants were angry and looking to make a meal out of these disturbers.  
  
Without even exchanging a look or a word the Slayer and the Huntsman moved, immediately attacking these new foes.  
  
Two of the vampires did not even have time to react. Buffy was upon one of them, not a stake to be found, and drove her stiff fingers right through its throat. But moments later, using a foot on the vampire's chest for leverage, she tore off its head and reduced it to dust. Jackson, for his part, simply picked his vampire up bodily and threw him out the crypt door and into a tree, an extending branch spearing the creature right through the heart.  
  
The third vampire mumbled something like "Oh, shit!" before they both grabbed him. He never even had a chance. Jackson held him and Buffy tore his head off his shoulders with barely even a strain.  
  
Before the dust had even settled they were attacking each other again. The remains of Jackson's shirt vanished somewhere in the shadows and Buffy's jeans were so much tatters now, flapping loosely around her legs. They barely noticed, the only thing they were interested in was the battle at hand. Desperately clawing at each others bodies, wanting to be close even if it meant tearing the other wide open and wrapping the skin around oneself.  
  
A violent attack by Buffy tore open Jackson's jeans from hip to ankle, leaving him all but naked before her. Moments later he grabbed her, lifting her into the air to smash her against one of the crypt's walls. The stone barely held up under their onslaught this time, cracking with the impact. Jackson moved in and Buffy's legs went around his body all by themselves, her mouth hungrily searching his as they kissed with abandon, looking to devour each other to still this strange hunger that had overcome them both.  
  
Suddenly there was no barrier between them any longer and Jackson thrust deep into Buffy's body, grinding her back hard against the stone. The sensation of feeling him inside her penetrated right through the haze that had wrapped itself around her mind. The reality of the situation hit her with sudden crystal clarity.  
  
Oh my God, what was she doing?  
  
"Stop," she yelled, but Jackson was too far gone to hear her, thrusting into her again. Buffy dug her hands into his shoulders, trying to shake him off.  
  
"Stop it, please!"  
  
He did not hear her and it took three more tries until she finally managed to throw him off. Buffy crumbled against the wall, panting, shocked at what had just happened, refusing to believe that it really had. This was not her, it could not be her. She did not simply jump people and ...  
  
Jackson was getting back to his feet, the wild look in his eyes clearly showing that he was not interested in stopping any time soon. And some part of Buffy did not want to stop, either. A part that seemed to grow stronger by the second.  
  
Rationality won out, though, barely, and when he approached her once more Buffy delivered an uppercut that threw Jackson down again, dazed and barely conscious. Without waiting for him to recover Buffy gathered the tattered remains of her clothing around her and ran. She did not care where she was headed, she just wanted away from here. Her vision was obscured by tears of shame running freely from her eyes.  
  
Oh, God! Oh, God! What was that? Why had she done that?  
  
Her body was aching all over and she could still feel the screaming in her blood, a violent urge to turn around and finish what she had started. A dark, animalistic part of her mind was craving it, longing for it with an intensity that caused her knees to shake. It took every ounce of her strength to keep running, her thoughts in pure chaos.  
  
What had she done? What had she done?  
  
Without any conscious thought her feet were carrying her to the one place she felt she could go now. She could not head home and face her mother, not like this. Neither could she go to the dorms, the risk of meeting people she knew in those corridors was just too great. Xander's basement apartment was on the other side of town and Angel was still in Los Angeles, not that she would have wanted to face either of them in this condition.  
  
Which left only Giles, the only one who might be able to explain to her what had just happened. Her body shaking with sobs of shame and fear Buffy arrived at his apartment and frantically pounded against the door.  
  
#  
  
When Jackson King recovered from the near-knockout blow he had received the Slayer was gone. This confused him greatly. Why had she left him? Why had she left when her own desire could no more be fulfilled than his own?  
  
Something was still off, he realized. This night he had decided to take things into his own hands, no matter his feelings that something was still not right. This was how it should have happened from the start. Slayer and Huntsman, destined to meet in combat and passion. Destined to fight together against the dark and find pleasure in it the likes of which no mere human could ever hope to understand.  
  
For some reason the Slayer, Buffy, had resisted. But why? She, too, must have felt the power they unleashed between them. He had seen it in her face, the feral grin of pure joy it had shown for those few precious minutes before she had fled from him. Now, with his own reason returning, he realized that her face had changed in the last seconds before she had clobbered him.  
  
It had shown nothing but shame and fear.  
  
Why? Why would she fear him, fear what was between them? Why would she be ashamed of it? Something had to be terribly wrong, something that needed to be fixed before destiny could run its course.  
  
And it would. If he had ever had any doubts about that they were gone now. For a few brief minutes everything had been as it was intended, the Slayer and the Huntsman together in all ways, all things.  
  
It would be thus again. Soon.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	17. Whatever Happened?

Part 16: Whatever Happened?  
  
#  
  
It was definitely a night of surprises for Rupert Giles, that much was already clear. But hours ago he had received news from the Council, learning that one of the major texts regarding the Huntsman had now successfully been decoded. Since time was of essence the Watchers had faxed it to him. It was actually the first time Giles ever used the fax machine Xander, Willow, and Buffy had bought him for his birthday last year. They had labeled it as his first step into the 20th century before it was too late.  
  
He had not yet had a chance to take a look at it, though, when Buffy suddenly arrived at his home. Her clothing in shambles, her small body shaking with sobs, he barely managed to get a coherent sentence out of her. She was clearly in shock. Something had happened to her, something terrible, and the only thing he could clearly understand between repeated utterances of 'I'm sorry' and 'I didn't mean to' was a name.  
  
Jackson King.  
  
Giles called Willow, hoping that Buffy's best friend might be able to calm her down. He had managed to maneuver Buffy into his bed, tucking her in, but she was still in shock, it seemed. The redhead arrived barely five minutes later, concern evident in her every gesture and expression. Giles merely motioned upstairs and she vanished into the bedroom, immediately taking in the devastated state of her friend.  
  
"Buffy, my god," she sat down on the bed, softly touching the Slayer's shivering form. "What happened?"  
  
"I didn't mean to," Buffy whispered under her breath. "I didn't mean to."  
  
"Didn't mean to what?" Willow asked, but Buffy barely seemed to register her presence.  
  
The redhead cast a side glance at the torn remains of Buffy's clothing which Giles had draped across a chair nearby. It looked like a wild animal had torn them apart. What she could see of Buffy's skin was covered with cuts and bruises that were already a deep purple. Her friend's accelerated healing would get rid of them by tomorrow, but now they stood out against a skin that was almost as white as the sheets.  
  
She had seen Buffy with worse injuries, though, had seen her beaten half to death. Even in those cases, though, her friend had never been in a state like this. Something more than a fight gone bad must have happened to her.  
  
"Buffy, please," Willow tried again. "Tell me what happened!"  
  
Suddenly Buffy's head snapped around, her eyes wide and shimmering with tears. An air of desperation was on her face.  
  
"He mustn't know," Buffy told Willow. "You mustn't tell him, Will! I only just got him back, I don't want to lose him! I didn't mean to do this, but ... he would understand, wouldn't he? But what if he doesn't? I can't lose him again, Will! I just can't!"  
  
"Lose him? Who, Buffy?"  
  
About ten minutes later Willow left the bedroom, her friend having fallen into an exhausted slumber for now. Giles looked up at her expectantly.  
  
"What did she say?"  
  
"I'm not sure," the redhead confessed, dropping onto the couch. "She kept repeating that she did not mean to do 'it', whatever 'it' might be. Oh, and that 'he' should not find out, yet at the same time how could she not tell 'him'!"  
  
"Who? Jackson King?" That did not make any sense at all, he thought.  
  
"Angel," Willow said after a pause. "She said something about only just having gotten him back and that this might ruin things again."  
  
Giles sighed, remembering his own thoughts from just a little while ago. How Buffy had behaved like she was hiding something and how it had reminded him of the time when she had hidden Angel from them.  
  
Why did this not come as a surprise?  
  
"You ... you think they are back together?" Willow asked. "She didn't tell me anything about that, but ... well, ever since Thanksgiving she was a bit ... lighter. Happier."  
  
"I think we can safely assume that she and Angel have found something of a middle ground, though I can't really imagine what it is. Nothing has changed about them that I know, so ..."  
  
He interrupted himself, feeling how tired he was.  
  
"I guess we have two choices now. Letting her sleep and hoping she will be more lucid in the morning or ..."  
  
"...we could call Angel and ask him what's going on," Willow finished the sentence for him.  
  
The Watcher and the witch briefly discussed their options. Leaving Buffy in the state she was in seemed like a bad idea, so they discarded it rather quickly. They considered calling Xander for help in getting Buffy to talk about things, but quickly decided against it. From what little they knew it seemed this was a rather delicate situation and, no matter the boy's loyalty towards his friends, called for more tact and sensitivity than Xander would ever possess. Especially when it came to the topic of Angel.  
  
With no idea what else to do the Watcher, reluctantly, picked up the phone and called Angel in Los Angeles. He had barely begun describing the situation, though, when the other man interrupted him, saying he would be there as fast as he could. He hung up without further comments, leaving Giles and Willow every bit as clueless as before.  
  
Barely ninety minutes after Giles' phone call Angel arrived at the apartment, having broken just about every speed limit his car was capable of breaking. He simply breezed by both Giles and Willow, barely a word of greeting on his lips, making a straight line for Buffy and slamming the bedroom door behind him.  
  
It was probably a good thing that neither Willow nor Giles consciously registered the significance of Angel casting a reflection as he passed the mirror on the stairway. They had quite enough to keep their thoughts busy this night already.  
  
#  
  
Buffy was awake as he entered. She felt his presence, of course, she always did. He could see it in the way her body tensed, the way the tingling in his own belly seemed to change. She was turned away from him, though, lying on her side and staring at the window. Even when he sat down on the bed she did not turn to face him. He placed his hand on her arm and felt her shiver.  
  
"Buffy?" he asked, softly caressing her where he touched. "What happened, beloved?"  
  
For a moment he thought she would not speak to him. As he passed Willow the redhead had called after him, saying that she might not want to talk to him about what had happened. He could almost see her fighting an inner battle as he waited for her to say something.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Angel," she finally whispered under her breath, so softly that he was not sure she had really said it.  
  
"For what?" He gently laid down beside her, slowly pulling her body against his. For a moment she resisted half-heartedly, but finally relented. "What happened?"  
  
"I ... I didn't mean to ... there was nothing I could do, Angel. I didn't want to, but ... I just couldn't stop it."  
  
He made calming noises as he felt her trembling, her voice telling of the state of shock she was in. Something terrible must have happened to her and he could not imagine what it was, especially with the shame and self- loathing she positively radiated in all directions. What could possibly have reduced his strong Buffy to this shaking wreck?  
  
"Tell me, beloved," he whispered into her ear. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it."  
  
It took almost half an hour and repeated assurances of love on his part to finally get the story out of her. She told him what happened in the graveyard with the young man called Jackson King. Over and over she told him that she was sorry, that she had not meant to do it, something had forced her.  
  
White hot anger filled Angel's veins, but none of it was directed at the girl shivering in his arms. Buffy had fought for their relationship more vigorously than anyone, including himself. The very thought that she would cheat on him now was simply ludicrous. No, something else must have happened to her. Something they needed answers about.  
  
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Buffy," he assured her, kissing the back of her neck. "We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise you."  
  
He also made another promise to himself in that moment. Whoever this Jackson King was, however he had forced himself onto Buffy, Angel would make him pay for it. Superpowers or no superpowers.  
  
#  
  
Almost an hour after Angel had entered Giles' bedroom he emerged again. He had convinced Buffy to take a shower, wash the dirt and grime of her encounter with the Huntsman off her body. He had watched for a minute, seen the frantic way she scrubbed her skin. The thought that Buffy felt guilty for what had happened was almost more than he could bear.  
  
Walking down into the apartment he saw Giles and Willow both flinch back from the look on his face. He forced himself not to show the seething anger that held his heart in its grip. Instead he filled the other two in on what he had learned, giving them a condensed version of this night's events that had found Buffy's agreement. It left out how far things had really gone.  
  
Even without knowing the full details Willow was appalled, at a loss for words. Giles sat down in his chair, burying his face in his hands.  
  
"I was afraid something like this would happen," the Watcher sighed.  
  
"Did you know it would?" Angel asked, the anger showing on his face again. "Why didn't you warn ...?"  
  
"I didn't know," the Watcher interrupted him. "Our information on the Huntsman was sketchy so far. Tonight, though, the Council sent me a newly decoded text. I did not have time to read through it before Buffy arrived, but ... well, you were upstairs quite a long time, so I did some reading."  
  
"What does it say?"  
  
All three of them turned around to see Buffy standing at the top of the stairs. The little blonde's hair was still wet, but she had dressed in some clean clothes from the small emergency stash she had here at Giles' apartment. There were dark rings under her eyes and her skin, what they could see of it, was red and raw from her scrubbing in the shower.  
  
Angel saw that her hands were shaking.  
  
"Buffy," Giles began softly. "Are you sure you want to ...?"  
  
"I need to know, Giles," she told him in a surprisingly firm voice. "Something ... something happened to me tonight and I ... I need to know. I just need to."  
  
The Watcher took a deep breath, then nodded and motioned for everyone to sit down. Angel and Buffy took the couch, the former quickly pulling her against him in a comforting gesture. For a moment she tensed, her entire body screaming of the shame she felt, but then she relaxed against him, drinking in his still unfamiliar warmth. Unlike the storm-like presence of Jackson King being with Angel felt soothing. Safe.  
  
Willow and Giles both noticed their intimacy, but wisely refrained from commenting for now.  
  
"Very well," Giles said, taking up the papers he had received tonight. "Here is what the Council has learned of the Huntsman so far:"  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	18. The Huntsman's Story

Part 17: The Huntsman's Story  
  
#  
  
Centuries ago members of the Watchers Council unearthed an ancient accounting of something called the Huntsman. At first they did not know what it was, but they understood enough of the texts they had found to realise two things. First, it was powerful, and second, it had something to do with the Slayer.  
  
At that time the Slayer had served the Council well for many centuries, but they were no closer to understanding its true nature than they were when they first encountered it. They had perfected magical spells that allowed them to predict, with a high level of accuracy, who might be chosen as the next Slayer if the current one should perish. They had developed methods to hone the Slayer's skills and powers. But where it came from and what it truly was, these things were a mystery to them.  
  
Thus much effort was dedicated to translating these ancient texts. They spoke of the Slayer and the Huntsman, describing their role in the scheme of things. Two warrior spirits, created long ago by a power without name. Male and female. Animus and Anima. Just as the Slayer would only choose females as its avatars, so did the Huntsman select only males. They were made to fight together, side by side, perfectly complementing each other.  
  
Only something had gone wrong a long, long time ago. Somehow someone had trapped the essence of the Huntsman, locked it away from those who should have been chosen by its power. This not only deprived the side of light of one of its warriors, but it also weakened the Slayer. For together the Slayer and the Huntsman would be greater than the sum of their parts, a nearly unstoppable fighting force.  
  
The Council, upon learning all this, dedicated their every resource to finding the trapped essence of the Huntsman. This was during a time when the forces of darkness seemed to hold the upper hand, right in the middle of the dark ages. The Watchers believed that, with the Slayer and the Huntsman fighting side by side as they were intended to, they would be able to beat back the dark. Maybe destroy it forever.  
  
It took them decades to find what they sought. When they finally did, it took them almost again as long to break through the many and powerful magical seals and containment spells that trapped the Huntsman. Eventually, though, they managed. In the presence of the Council leaders and the current Slayer the Huntsman was freed and, as the Council's clairvoyants had predicted, it immediately chose an avatar, one of a handful of young men the Watchers had selected for this purpose.  
  
At first everything seemed to work out just fine. The Slayer and the Huntsman went into battle side by side and nothing and no one could stand against them. Demons and vampires alike fell before them like grass before the scythe. There was passion between them as well, something the Watchers had not expected, but did nothing to hinder, either. The Slayer's name was Maria Carmella Giordano, the Huntsman was called Charles Augustine. They became lovers and were eventually married by the leader of the Council himself.  
  
Soon, though, things started going wrong. The Watchers, at first blinded by the staggering might of their warriors, began to realise that change was upon them. Augustine threw himself into battle with a mindless dedication and aggressiveness that went above and beyond the call of duty. This was doubly strange as he had been a mild-mannered boy before being chosen by the Huntsman. Now, though, he approached the battle against the dark with a ferocity that scared even his keepers.  
  
What frightened them even more, though, was the fact that the Slayer, Giordano, was also changing. She had been a gentle spirit, fighting because it was her sacred duty, not because she liked it. She had wept for those she could not save and had killed quickly and painlessly when she had to. Now, though, Augustine's no-prisoners approach seemed to have infected her as well. In one battle her own Watcher, a fatherly man whom she had adored, was killed by a vampire that she could easily have stopped, had she not been too busy slaughtering his companions. She dismissed her Watcher's death, not crying a single tear.  
  
When the Watchers tried to separate them, hoping that distance would cool their lust for combat and destruction, they suddenly found themselves on the receiving end of the same violence they had so eagerly unleashed upon their enemies. Giordano and Augustine refused to be separated, killing everyone who got between them, be they human or demon.  
  
In the end the Watchers saw no choice but to kill them both. It cost them many lives and great pain. They hoped that, with the two warriors' death, the nightmare would be over. They went so far as to make sure that the next Slayer and the next Huntsman would never, ever meet. They would not even be told about each other's existence. Each would be made to believe that they were the only warrior for the light.  
  
It did not help, though. Slayer and Huntsman felt each other's existence across whatever distance the Watchers decided to put between them. They disregarded their orders, fought against their keepers, and found each other. It was a repeat of Giordano and Augustine. These two people, who had never even met before, immediately took to each other as if they had been made that way, igniting a passion between them that could burn the world into ashes.  
  
Finally the Watchers came to realise that the unleashing of the Huntsman had been a mistake. Maybe it had not been the powers of the dark that had locked its essence away in the distant past. Maybe imprisoning this warrior of the light had been necessary back then.  
  
It certainly was now.  
  
The Watchers lured the Huntsman into a trap, separated him from the Slayer, and recast the same seals and wards that had bound him once before. Its current avatar, a young man named Alexander Hamish, withered and died almost immediately. No new Huntsman was called, its essence locked up once again. The Slayer who had been at his side, a girl called Maliya, went insane. There was no curing her and ten months after the binding she was killed to make room for a new Slayer, one uncontaminated by the inexplicable bond with the Huntsman.  
  
Every piece of information about the Huntsman was encoded and then locked away, sealed with a warning never to set it free again unless the world itself was in peril. The Watchers knew that there might come a time when the fighting fury of the Huntsman and the Slayer combined might be the only thing that could save the world from destruction, but they hoped it never would never come to that.  
  
For the price was much too high.  
  
#  
  
Silence answered Giles as he finished reading, everyone trying to digest what they had just learned. Angel was unconsciously pulling Buffy tighter against himself, the Slayer still shivering slightly.  
  
Finally it was Willow who found her voice first.  
  
"Why did they free it?" she asked Giles.  
  
"That's what I'd like to know," Buffy added. "I mean ... God, I ..."  
  
"I understand, Buffy," Giles assured her. "That was actually one of the first questions I asked the Council when they started sending me information. It appears that they are in possession of several major prophecies that predict a great battle in the near future, no more than a year or two down the road."  
  
He sighed. "I guess they thought they would need the Huntsman's power for this battle."  
  
"Fools," Angel whispered.  
  
"They did not know most of what I just read, Angel. They only knew that the Huntsman was a creature of great power."  
  
"All the more foolish to free it then when they knew so little about it."  
  
Buffy shook her head, trying to get her thoughts back under control. "Okay, let's just ... let's just take a few steps back and start at the beginning, okay? From what you just told us ... I mean, you are telling me that I have no choice in this? That it's ... what, fated?"  
  
"I don't accept that," Angel said. "Whatever truth this text might contain it was wrong about one thing. Buffy broke away from King, broke whatever spell he had over her."  
  
"It wasn't King who had her under a spell, Angel," Giles reminded him, weary of the anger he could see in the other man's eyes. "The Slayer and the Huntsman are drawn to one another. King would have no more control over it than Buffy."  
  
"But Buffy had control! She broke away from him, not the other way around."  
  
"I'm not sure I could do it again," Buffy confessed, whispering. "It was so ... powerful. Like my thoughts were just ... swept away."  
  
"What about the rest?" Willow asked. "I mean ... it said that you would be more powerful together than apart. Did you ... I mean, did you feel stronger?"  
  
Buffy closed her eyes, shuddering as memories overcame her.  
  
"We were ... interrupted ... by three vampires. We ... God, we just tore them apart with our bare hands. It took about ten seconds."  
  
"Giles, we need to find something to protect Buffy from this ... whatever it is that draws them together."  
  
"I agree, Angel. The Council is still looking into it and I am doing my own research here. Until then, though, the best thing we can do is try to ensure that Buffy and King do not meet face to face again."  
  
Buffy looked up.  
  
"He was stalking me. I ... I couldn't really place the feeling before, but now that I ... know what he ... feels like, I know he has been following me for a while."  
  
Angel cursed. "Then he probably knows where you live. Everything."  
  
"This is strange, though," Giles frowned. "If he has been here for a time then the two of you should have ... I mean, the text says that Slayer and Huntsman were drawn together immediately. You should have felt his presence and ... well ..."  
  
"I did feel him," Buffy said. "I just ... I just didn't know what I was feeling."  
  
Giles shook his head. "We are still missing something here. I'm not sure what it is, though."  
  
"Buffy could simply be stronger of will than those two Slayers mentioned in the text," Angel offered.  
  
"A possibility, yes. I just wish there was some way to be sure about it."  
  
"I have an associate in Los Angeles," Angel told the others. "He has some ... unusual connections. I will ask him to look into this, maybe he can find out some things."  
  
"Good, every pair of eyes helps. Buffy, you should get some sleep now."  
  
Buffy, never having moved from Angel's side, looked up at him with shock still evident in her large eyes.  
  
"You ... you're staying, right?"  
  
He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Just try and make me leave you!"  
  
Giles and Willow shared another look as the couple left together, but said nothing. The redhead made a mental note to press her friend for details the first chance she got, though. Something was going on between these two and she intended to find out what it was.  
  
They could certainly use a little happiness in their lives right now. Maybe not perfect happiness, though.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	19. No More Secrets

Part 18: No More Secrets  
  
#  
  
To say that Xander Harris was out of the loop would be a serious understatement. To be more precise he was at a loss as to what had been going on with Buffy and the darker side of Sunnydale as of late. He was feeling left out, quite a lot actually, and it was not a feeling he particularly cherished.  
  
It was to be expected, of course. Buffy and Willow were going to college, he was not. They were sharing a dorm, he lived in his parents' basement. Willow was still his best bud, he did not doubt that, and he was glad he was able to be there for her ever since the whole thing with Oz and then Spike had gone down. Still, he was pretty much in the dark as to what Buffy was doing these days.  
  
Well, hopefully that was going to change now. Buffy had invited him over for a meeting, saying only that she was going to fill him and the others in on everything that had gone down as of late. Her voice had suggested that 'everything' was not all roses and sunshine. The upside, though, was that they were meeting in the park in the middle of the day for a picnic. No possibility of vampire ambush there at the very least.  
  
When he and Anya arrived they saw only Willow and Giles there, busily spreading a blanket on the grass and taking wrapped sandwiches out of a basket. There was no sign of Buffy yet.  
  
"Hey, Wills," he greeted them. "G-man, what's up?"  
  
"Don't call me that," Giles said without looking up. "Sit down, Buffy should be along momentarily."  
  
"She is making us wait?" Anya asked, plopping down beside Xander. "She called this meeting, how come she is making us wait? That's just plain rude!"  
  
"She said something about a surprise," Willow said, shrugging. She was actually getting used to the former demon's bluntness. "I guess we'll just have to wait and ..."  
  
Willow's voice suddenly trailed off and her eyes widened, focused on something behind Xander. He quickly turned around, expecting something horrible and demonic to come at them even here in the middle of the day. Did he have a stake somewhere? No, of course not, why would he pack a stake for a picnic? Of all the stupid ...  
  
His own thoughts trailed off as well when he finally saw what Willow was gaping at. Buffy was walking toward them with a big smile on her face and holding her hand was ... someone who could not possibly be here. Not in a park filled with sunshine in the middle of the day.  
  
"Hi guys," Buffy said to her stunned friends. "Surprise!" She and Angel remained standing some feet away from the blanket, waiting for one of them to say something.  
  
"How ...? When ...? How ...?" Willow was looking back and forth from Buffy to Angel so fast her head was starting to spin.  
  
"It's day, right?" Xander asked no one in particular. "I'm not imagining that, am I? It's day!"  
  
"Brightest day, Xander," Angel said with a smile on his lips. "Lots of sunshine."  
  
"You are not wearing the Gem of Amara," Giles said, the Watcher studying the non-combusting, sunlit form of the supposed vampire. "How can you ...?"  
  
"He is no longer a vampire," Buffy said, rubbing a hand across Angel's warm flesh. "It's a long story, gang. You want to hear it?"  
  
"He's a real hunk," Anya said into the ensuing silence. "I didn't really see you when you came over at Thanksgiving. Why did no one tell me he was such a hunk?"  
  
"An, really not the time!"  
  
"Don't worry, Xander! You're still my ..."  
  
Xander quickly clamped his hand over her mouth, not wanting to hear whatever nickname she had thought up for him right now. Whatever it was, he was sure it was nothing he wanted his friends to hear. Or Angel. Human Angel.  
  
Did this mean he could no longer call him deadboy?  
  
Buffy and Angel settled down on the blanket, sitting so close together that no one could possibly mistake the state of their relationship. There was a somewhat angry look on Xander's face, but he refrained from commenting. For now at least.  
  
"Okay," Buffy began, seeing that she had her friends' undivided attention. "It all started when I went to Los Angeles to chew him out for his visit at Thanksgiving."  
  
Buffy told them the whole story, except some of the more intimate details. Angel mostly held his silence, only adding a fact here and there and telling them about things Buffy had not seen in person, like his battle against the Mhora. Giles, Willow, and Xander listened with rapt fascination and even Anya seemed intrigued by the tale.  
  
"This is amazing," Giles said when they finished. "I've heard rumors about Mhoras and the mystical properties of their blood, but I had no idea that they could actually bring a dead body back to life."  
  
"I certainly did not expect it to happen," Angel admitted, "but I can't really complain either, can I?"  
  
"No complains here," Buffy added with a big smile on her face.  
  
"So ... Angel, you're here to stay?" Willow asked.  
  
The former vampire nodded. "I will need to make some short trips back to LA to take care of some leftover business, but yes, I will stay." He turned to look fondly at Buffy. "Period."  
  
Willow needed a moment to digest this fact, but then quickly moved over to gather both Buffy and Angel into a big hug.  
  
"I'm so happy for you two," she squealed. "This is like a fairy tale ending, guys!"  
  
"I hate to spoil the mood," Giles said after quietly observing for a minute, "but this fairy tale is not exactly over. We have other problems, don't we?"  
  
A somber look came to Buffy's face. She had almost managed to put the events of two days ago out of her mind. Angel had been with her nonstop, ensuring her of his love and that he did not blame her for what happened, and for a time she had been able to pretend that the rest of the world simply did not exist. Especially that part of the world that contained a guy called Jackson King.  
  
Giles was kind enough to take over filling Xander, Anya, and to a certain degree Willow in on what else had been going on. All of them already knew about Riley and his undercover guys, though Buffy and Giles' decision to join them for now was news to most of them. Any questions or comments they might have had about that were forgotten, though, as Giles explained about the Huntsman and what they knew about its connection to the Slayer.  
  
"You mean this guy and the Buff here," Xander said, "are destined to ... and everyone who comes between them ...?" He looked at Angel.  
  
"It won't come to that," both Angel and Giles said at the same time. The two men shared a quick look of understanding.  
  
"Buffy has been able to break this ... mating bond or whatever it is," Giles explained. "We are not sure why, but I am looking into various possibilities right now."  
  
"I spoke to Doyle in Los Angeles," Angel said. "He's a friend of mine and has something of a direct line of communication with the higher powers."  
  
"How does that work?" Xander asked.  
  
"He gets visions of people in trouble," Angel explained. "Also there are the Oracles, spokesbeings for the Powers That Be and ..."  
  
"Oh, the poor guy," Anya said. "I knew a woman who had these vision things once. Blew out the back of her head after a while."  
  
"Blew out ...? He does get terrible migraines whenever they hit, but ..."  
  
"He isn't human, is he?" the former demon asked. "Normally only good demons are supposed to get these things, but the Powers are messy about that."  
  
"He's a half-demon, Anya."  
  
"Oh, that's okay then." With that the topic seemed closed for her. Angel gave her another look, but then continued with the matter at hand.  
  
"Doyle has asked the Oracles about the Huntsman. They did not tell him much, but what they said apparently confirmed what we learned from that text the Council sent you, Giles. Slayer and Huntsman were created as a mated pair of warriors, but unfortunately the mating bond was made too strong. They can't control it and that's why the Huntsman was locked away."  
  
"Until those Council idiots freed it," Buffy swore. "Trust the guys who are supposed to help me save the world to screw it up again."  
  
"Did they know why Buffy was able to resist the mating bond?" Giles asked.  
  
"They did not say. The only other thing they told Doyle was that it was a matter of essence. All that makes the Slayer is drawn to the Huntsman. Whatever they mean by that."  
  
Giles frowned, a thoughtful look on his face. "All that makes the Slayer ...," he mumbled.  
  
"Oh, I think G-man is in full deduction-mode," Xander said.  
  
"Giles?" Buffy asked. "What is it?"  
  
"Hmm? Oh, I just ... they said 'all that makes the Slayer', yes?"  
  
"That's what Doyle said, yes."  
  
The Watcher nodded, taking off his glasses to clean them.  
  
"That would make sense," he said to no one in particular. "All that makes the Slayer."  
  
"Giles, you're wigging me out," Buffy complained. "If you know something about this, share! Now!"  
  
"It's just a theory, Buffy, but ... the only previous time we know of that the Huntsman and the Slayer met there was but one Slayer." He looked up at Buffy. "Now, though, there are two."  
  
Buffy needed a moment to understand.  
  
"Faith?"  
  
#  
  
In a hospital on the other side of Sunnydale a dark-haired girl was lying in a bed, the same bed she had been in for many months now. The doctors did not honestly expect her to ever wake up again, the damage her head had sustained in a terrible fall back in early summer was just too great.  
  
Not one of these doctors was around, though, to see her sleep grow restless. As a matter of fact it had been restless for quite a while now. She moaned in her sleep and tossed and turned, almost as if she was in the grip of a nightmare she could not wake up from.  
  
Had anyone been able to take a look inside her head, inside her dreams, they would have seen the face of a young man called Jackson King.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	20. Shadows of the Past

Part 19: Shadows of the Past  
  
#  
  
San Francisco, California  
  
The name on the mailbox read 'Jessica Blackwood' and the woman who lived here had almost gotten used to it by now. At first it had been difficult. Someone would call her by that name and she would not react, leading to some awkward questions and lies about a hearing disorder. Now, though, after more than twenty years, things were getting easier. Jessica was her name now and the woman she had been in another life was gone.  
  
Except for a few nights every month, that was.  
  
She still had nightmares sometimes. Nightmares of that infernal place where they were betrayed, treated like something less than human, used by others for their own personal gain. It was over, though, long over. The people who had hurt her and the others were long gone and they had made sure that it could never happen again, neither to themselves, nor to others. The nightmare was over and the memories were fading a little more with every year that passed.  
  
Sometimes she caught herself watching the news or reading the paper and looking for the name of that place. It did appear in the news now and then. Just a few months ago she had seen an article about it. Something about a school blowing up. She wondered whether it had really been an accident or something else. There were things a lot worse than roaming gangs or leaky gas pipes in that deceptively innocent little town. She knew that better than anyone.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Only a few people had her number and she wondered if it might be Steve, up for a little repeat performance of last weekend. It had been a long time since she had trusted herself to be with anyone. Another thing those bastards had messed up in her life. They were dead, she reminded herself once again. The nightmare was over.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Julia?" a voice on the other end asked.  
  
She froze. No, this could not be! Not now! Not when things finally settled down! Only four other people alive today knew her true name, knew that she had once lived under the name of Julia Fernandez. None of them would call her. They had made a promise never to call each other unless ... unless the nightmare was not over. Julia put a hand in front of her mouth to stifle the sob she felt building in her throat.  
  
"Julia, are you there?" the voice asked again.  
  
"Yes, I ... I am here, Daniel."  
  
She had recognized his voice, of course, despite not having heard it in twenty years. Daniel Stark, one of the aforementioned four living people who knew her, knew who she truly was. He knew because he had been there as well, one of the few survivors. Daniel, Julia, and three other people had gotten out alive. Everyone else had died.  
  
"It's happening again, Julia," Daniel said.  
  
"Are you certain?" she asked him, praying that he would say no. She did not want to go through this again. More than twenty years had passed and she had almost managed to forget.  
  
"My old contacts don't lie," he answered, sounding grim. "Sunnydale has appeared on the radar again and the company has sent a covert action team in."  
  
Julia closed her eyes, somehow hoping that this would all turn out to be some kind of dream. Yet another nightmare in a long string of nightmares, all resulting from that place called Sunnydale. She pinched herself, but apart from a brief flash of pain there was nothing. No waking up in sweat- soaked sheets. This was real. It was happening again.  
  
"Have you called the others?" she asked.  
  
"Henry is on his way, but it will take him a few days. I haven't reached Allan and Joshua yet. I'm still in New York. You are closest to Sunnydale, Julia."  
  
He did not say out loud what he wanted her to do and he did not have to. A lot of time had passed, but she remembered their last meeting. The plans they had made in case something like this would ever happen. One of them, whoever was closest, would go to Sunnydale for recon. Hopefully that person would find out that it was all in error, that the nightmare had not started up again.  
  
If it had, though, that advance scout would call in the others. And they would do what was necessary.  
  
"Any details your contacts could come up with?" she asked.  
  
"Fancy new name for the op," Daniel said. "Special Domestic Operations, if you can believe it. Not sure how many agents are already in place. The agent in charge is a guy named Thomas Burke."  
  
Julia nodded, the cold and practical part of her mind already going over the things she would have to do. Call in sick at work. Dig up the old stuff from the attic. A dozen other little details. That part of her mind that was screaming in terror went ignored for now.  
  
"One other thing, Julia," Daniel said. "Apparently this Burke guy has already put some things in motion. My contact could not get a look at the full reports, but there was some talking about some kind of special agent they were recruiting for the team. Someone, and I quote here, 'superhuman'."  
  
Julia's heart skipped a beat.  
  
"There is no hope then, right? It's happening again."  
  
"I pray that I'm wrong, Julia."  
  
"Let us both pray then," she murmured, then hung up.  
  
Packing her bag was done as if in a trance, her hands taking out clean clothes and bundling them up without any help from her mind. She was miles away already, her thoughts going back to that town she had sworn never to return to unless ... well, unless the things Daniel had just told her were happening happened. They had all sworn an oath that final night, more than twenty years ago.  
  
She went up into the attic and removed the large chest from where it was hidden behind a loose wall panel. She gave the equipment inside a once- over, nodding in satisfaction. It was all a bit out of date, of course, but she had taken care of it, keeping it in working order. Just in case.  
  
The large assault rifle with the phosphor bullets was clean and clicked in all the right places when she quickly took it apart and reassembled it. Two knives with wooden inlays, every bit as sharp as they had been back then. Two handguns with the same ammunition as the rifle, also in full working order. She took extra time checking the belt of grenades. Some of them were of the standard exploding variety, others would release a large cloud of holy water vapor once primed.  
  
She quickly moved the weapons into the old military-style shoulder bag when something else drew her attention. A framed photograph was lying at the bottom of the chest. Without really wanting to she took it out, blowing a thin sheet of dust off it before taking a long look.  
  
The photograph showed nine people in military fatigues, leaning against two green jeeps and smiling at the camera. Eight men, one woman. All of them looked so incredibly young and confident. Invulnerable. There was nothing in the world they could not handle. Her fingers traced the words written on the bottom right corner.  
  
Sunnydale, California February 17, 1978  
  
A single tear came to her eye as she looked at those young faces on the picture. At that time it had been a major issue for a woman like herself to be assigned to a special operations unit. Unheard of, really. She had had to work ten times as hard as any of her male colleagues to make it and when the assignment came she had been so incredibly smug and proud.  
  
They were the best, the best of the best. When the Seals could not hack it and Delta Force ran in fear they were sent in. Officially their unit had not even existed and they did the kind of missions the congress never learned about. By the time that picture had been taken they had boasted a one hundred percent success rate with zero casualties.  
  
Julia sighed. Two weeks later four of them had been dead and the rest ... the rest had gotten the worse end of the deal. They had survived. Survived to learn exactly what had been done to them and by whom.  
  
A surge of anger went through Julia, anger the kind of which she had not felt since that time. They were doing it again. Once again they sent unsuspecting soldiers who had served their country faithfully and to the best of their abilities into this nightmare and ... with a flash of pain she felt her hand change, skin ripping apart, bones breaking and healing back together in a heartbeat.  
  
Her anger only grew worse as she looked at her hand, fingers elongated into claws, dark fur covering the skin. Not now, she told herself. There would be time for this later. A part of her yearned for the taste of warm flesh, spilling blood just for the beautiful color it took on when it burst forth into the air. No, she yelled at herself. Never!  
  
Only one time had she allowed those urges to control her. Only one time had she allowed the monster they had turned her into to run free. She did not regret it, never had. It held a certain irony that the only casualties of the monster were its own creators and the world was a better place with them gone.  
  
Only maybe it was not. Julia did not know how it could have started again. They had destroyed all the files and all the people in the know where dead now. It was no use to second-guess themselves now, though. Maybe a few files had survived. Maybe someone else had simply had the same idea. It did not matter.  
  
The only thing that mattered was going to Sunnydale and ending this nightmare before it could claim the lives of yet more innocent people.  
  
And if that meant to let the monster run loose once more, than that was what she would do.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	21. People In the Know

Part 20: People in the Know  
  
#  
  
A week had passed in relative silence without Jackson King making another appearance. Giles theorized that the young man was every bit as confused about what had happened as Buffy was, only he was without the guidance of a Watcher, having nothing to rely on but his instincts. No one was quite sure what those instincts would tell him to do, but him leaving Sunnydale was not something they considered likely.  
  
Angel stayed in Sunnydale, unwilling to leave Buffy alone while King was still out there somewhere. He made but two brief trips to Los Angeles to train with Mara and have another talk with the Oracles. The former was far more successful than the latter and by the end of the week Angel and Buffy sparred together for the first time since he had turned human. He ended up on his back a lot, of course, but was slowly getting used to having mere human strength. It was a start.  
  
Buffy also told her mother about him and that they were back together. Joyce was, at first, not particularly happy about it, but that was before she heard about Angel's recent transformation. She had also not missed how depressed her daughter had been ever since Angel had left town and, with most of the reservations she had had about him linked to his vampire nature, decided to give the two of them a chance. It helped, of course, that Angel was quite charming when he wanted to and also knew a lot about art and history.  
  
Buffy went about her new duties as trainer for Burke's SDO agents and found that it was a lot of fun. After the initial breaking of the ice the agents quickly warmed up to her, recognizing the skills and experience she brought to the team. By the end of the week Buffy took them out on their first joint patrol and things went quite good, though they met but few vampires. Burke was quite happy and Buffy secretly basked in the occasional looks of admiration she got from her new colleagues.  
  
The entire gang paid a visit to the hospital where Faith was still in a coma. By now the doctors had noticed the sleeping girl's almost constant nightmares. There was nothing they could do for her, though, and some theorized that it might even help her wake up if her sleeping state grew more uncomfortable. Buffy was not so sure about that and said a short prayer for her sister Slayer before they left.  
  
No new revelations about the Huntsman were found in the remaining texts the Council decoded. Giles conferred with them several times and a decision regarding the fate of Jackson King was reached. If the young man did not show himself capable of suppressing the violent urges of the force hosted inside him then the Watchers would have no choice but to try and bind the Huntsman again. This would, of course, lead to Jackson King's death.  
  
No one wanted to see him dead, though, not even Buffy and Angel. Their best chance was to try and capture him. The best chance for that to happen, though, involved Buffy's new colleagues, who as of yet knew nothing about the Huntsman.  
  
#  
  
Riley approached the Summers home, not really sure what he was to make of Buffy's invitation for tonight. They had something to discuss, she had said, something she preferred to talk about outside the SDO barracks.  
  
That was fine by him, actually. Ever since he and Buffy had learned the truth about each other and her joining the team they had been ... distant. Okay, they had not actually been all that close before (at least not as close as he would have preferred to be), but they had been friends of a sort and Riley had enjoyed that. Now, though, their relationship seemed to have been reduced to the strictly professional. He realized it had only been little more than a week, but in that time they had not exchanged a single word that was not about business.  
  
Thus her dinner invitation had come as something of a surprise.  
  
Riley raised his hand to knock on the door, but it opened before he could and Buffy stood there, smiling at him.  
  
"Hi, Riley! I'm glad you came."  
  
"How could I not?" he asked, smiling back.  
  
Buffy took a step forward and closed the door behind her, the smile on her face growing a bit guarded.  
  
"Riley, before we go in there is something you should know. I ... remember how I told you about this guy I was together with a long time and how I was not over him?"  
  
He just nodded. How could he forget about the guy who was to blame for Buffy's reluctance to risk another relationship.  
  
"Well, he's here. You're gonna meet him in about a minute."  
  
That was something of a surprise to be sure. Riley just looked at Buffy for a long time, then managed to gather his wits back together. Reminding himself that he was her friend, nothing more, he stifled the irrational bout of jealousy he felt rising.  
  
"Are you ... I mean, you are back together then, I take it?"  
  
"Yes, we are," Buffy said, her blooming smile telling him all he needed to know. Buffy was happy, there was no mistaking that. Riley sighed. If only she would smile that way because of him. Well, it appeared there was nothing he could do about it and as long as she was happy, well, he could live with that. Somehow.  
  
"I just wanted to tell you first," Buffy went on. "I didn't want any awkward silences in there."  
  
"No silence from me, then. I promise."  
  
"Thanks!"  
  
Buffy opened the door again and led them inside, where something of a crowd had already assembled. Riley was taken aback for a moment. He knew Giles, of course, as well as Buffy's dorm mate Willow. The woman who was busily preparing the big dinner table was her mother, he guessed. There was a certain resemblance there.  
  
As for the rest, though ...  
  
"Okay, introductions are in order," Buffy announced their presence to the room. "Everyone, this is Riley. Riley, these are Xander, Anya, my mother Joyce, Doyle, and Angel."  
  
The way she said that last name made it clear that he was 'that guy'. Buffy immediately went to him, slipping an arm around his waist. Angel pressed a kiss to her crown before looking at Riley again.  
  
"Pleased to meet you, Riley," he said, holding out a hand. "Buffy has told me a lot about you."  
  
"Well, she did mention you, too, once or twice," he answered, shaking the offered hand.  
  
The man had a strong grip and for a moment Riley considered turning this into a little contest of strength. Childish, he chided himself a moment later. It was not Angel's fault that Buffy had fallen for him long before Riley had met her. Riley was envious, there was no denying that, but again, nothing to be done about that. Especially not by some childish display of machismo.  
  
Riley greeted the others, getting a brief explanation of what place they took in Buffy's life with each handshake. He was rather taken aback by Anya's calling him James Bond's farmboy cousin, though, and not just because he was unaccustomed to women complimenting him so directly.  
  
"Ah, Buffy, could I talk to you for a moment?"  
  
"Sure!"  
  
They went into the kitchen, out of earshot of the others.  
  
"Buffy, do they ... does everyone in there know about SDO?"  
  
"Well, of course ... not," she added after seeing the look on his face. "My mother doesn't ... I mean, not in so many words. She does know I've ... but she really doesn't know anything. And Anya, I don't think Anya paid much attention when I ..."  
  
Riley sighed deeply.  
  
"Buffy, remember that document you signed?"  
  
"Oh! You mean the one that said ... uh, am I in trouble?"  
  
Riley moved a hand through his hair. This was exactly why it was never a good idea to mix business with private stuff. For all intents and purposes Buffy had violated the non-disclosure agreement she had signed, telling several people without security clearance about classified matters. She could be brought up on criminal charges for that.  
  
"They are my friends, Riley," she told him. "Well, except maybe Anya. But it doesn't matter, really! They all know about me being the Slayer and haven't said a word to anyone for over three years now. I couldn't simply not tell them. I haven't told them Burke's name or any details, I promise!"  
  
"Buffy, I ... okay, let's forget that for now! You obviously had a reason for getting me here tonight. Probably not just to meet your friends, right?"  
  
"No. Let's rejoin the others, okay? We'll eat and then I'll explain everything."  
  
Riley nodded, his thoughts still racing about Buffy's blatant breach of secrecy. If he told Burke about this it could put an end to their so-far very productive cooperation. Burke might understand, but his superiors probably would not.  
  
He finally decided to let things be for now. He would get to know Buffy's friends better and play it by ear. Hopefully none of them would blab on about this to yet more people. Yeah, hopefully.  
  
Buffy's mother served dinner and they chatted amiably for some time, ignoring everything that had to with vampires, secret government operations, and chosen warriors. Buffy's friends were a strange lot, especially that Anya girl, but quite likeable in their own way.  
  
After a hefty round of ice cream that made Riley take a mental note to run two extra miles tomorrow they settled down on the living room furniture and got down to business.  
  
"Riley, the main reason we wanted you here tonight is this guy," Buffy said, handing him a photograph. It showed a young man, no older than twenty at the most.  
  
"What about him?"  
  
"His name is Jackson King and, to make a long story short, he is extremely dangerous."  
  
Giles then filled Riley in on the lore of the Huntsman. Riley was curious about this Watchers Council he briefly mentioned, but did not press the older man about that. When he learned what happened between King and Buffy but a week ago he almost lost his cool.  
  
"That bastard," Riley growled.  
  
"It wasn't his fault," Buffy calmed him. "We were both driven to it by ... whatever it is that makes us what we are. According to everything we know he is an innocent in this, Riley. Think of him as a little boy who was given a really big gun and tries to figure out what it is and how it works without anyone around to show him."  
  
A deep breath later Riley had calmed down somewhat, sharing a brief look with Angel. The other man was no more happy about King than Riley was, that much was obvious. It almost made him smile. If the choice was between a guy whom Buffy adored and this Huntsman guy, well, that was no choice at all, was it?  
  
"Okay, so what do we do about him?"  
  
"We need to capture him," Giles said, taking over the reigns of the conversation again. "As I said, King is probably extremely confused and unpredictable. For obvious reasons we can't risk Buffy going out to hunt him down and, well, I fear the rest of us would not stand that much of a chance to take him down should we find him."  
  
"He is as strong as Buffy," Angel said, "maybe stronger. But he is still human, so unlike a vampire he will be vulnerable to things like tranquilizers, gas, things like that."  
  
"I get it. So you want our teams to go and look for him, is that it?"  
  
Giles nodded. "Remember, Riley, this is an innocent young man out there. Under the right circumstances he could be a tremendous asset to our cause. We need to capture him alive. If he dies then another youngster will be chosen as the Huntsman and, I fear, all this will start over."  
  
Riley still had trouble believing in the whole 'chosen by a higher power' thing, but he understood the problem they were facing. Buffy needed his help in this and, after what he had heard, he intended to give it to her, no matter what he had to do to convince Burke.  
  
King would find the tables turned on him very soon.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	22. For the Love of a Woman

Part 21: For the Love of a Woman  
  
#  
  
Angel had not expected running into Riley Finn on his way back to the mansion. Truth to tell he would have preferred to have as little contact with the younger man as possible. Angel had not missed the looks Riley had given Buffy during their last meeting and Buffy had told him that Riley had something of a crush on her, though he had never acted on it since she had told him that she was not interested.  
  
Part of Angel could not really blame Riley for what he felt. Buffy was an easy person to fall for and, as far as Angel was concerned, any male person on the face of this planet who was not in love with her had to be blind and deaf. Of course he might just be a bit biased in that area.  
  
He also had to respect that Riley seemed to accept the fact that Buffy did not return his feelings and managed to be a friend and colleague to her regardless. Not too many people he knew were that mature. Certainly not a certain dark-haired boy he knew, who still had some troubles accepting the fact that Angel was part of Buffy's life again.  
  
Still, he doubted he would ever be able to like Riley. Maybe it was a male thing and spoke ill about his own level of maturity, but liking a guy one knew was interested in one's girlfriend ... not likely.  
  
"Hi! Angel, right?" Riley asked.  
  
"Riley, hello."  
  
For a long moment the two men just studied each other, the only sound coming from the occasional car that passed them by. Angel wanted nothing more than to just walk on. He knew Buffy would be waiting for him at the mansion, home from college and with several hours of spare time before she would head out to the next training session with SDO. Riley seemed to have something on his mind, though, and so Angel waited.  
  
"Look," Riley finally said, "I just wanted to get something off my chest. From the looks of things the two of us will have to get along, especially with this King guy around."  
  
"I guess so."  
  
"So, I ... I guess it's rather old-fashioned and clichéd, but ... I like Buffy. I really do. She is my friend and I want her to be happy, so ..."  
  
He hesitated and Angel clearly heard the words he did not say. The ones that said how he would rather have Buffy be happy with him.  
  
"You make her happy," Riley continued, making a face as if he was chewing something really disgusting. "Only a blind man wouldn't see that. I also saw how miserable she was after you broke up with her, so ... I guess what I'm saying is ..."  
  
"I hurt her again and you'll kick my ass?" Angel asked, amused.  
  
Riley managed to maintain his serious look for about two seconds, then broke into a slight smile that made him seem about fifteen years old.  
  
"Yeah, something like that. My point is ..."  
  
"I get your point, Riley," Angel interrupted him. "And believe me, I have no intention of hurting Buffy ever again if I can help it. Our separation ... it was very complicated. I thought I was doing the right thing then. Maybe it even was, because being apart for those months showed both of us how much we need each other. I don't intend to ever let her go again."  
  
He made a step toward Riley, closing the distance between them.  
  
"I know that you have ... feelings for her as well, Riley. I can't say I'm a hundred percent comfortable with that, but I am glad that she has friends who are concerned about her welfare and, whether I like it or not, you seem to have become one of those friends."  
  
He held out his hand.  
  
"Friends?" Riley asked skeptically, looking at Angel's hand.  
  
"I wouldn't go quite that far. How about ... let's agree to put Buffy's happiness first and go on from there?"  
  
"I guess I can live with that," Riley said and shook Angel's hand.  
  
#  
  
Jackson King was not sure why, of all the people he had seen come and go from Buffy's house and dorm room these last few days, he had followed that man who liked to dress in black. Instinct, he guessed. He had only known that something was wrong, something that kept the Slayer from her rightful place at his side.  
  
Now he knew.  
  
He did not know how this bastard had done it, what kind of spell he had cast over the beautiful girl to make her his. It did not matter. Slayer and Huntsman were meant to be together and this man was standing between them. That was all he needed to know, all he cared about.  
  
Jackson had never before in his life hated someone. He had been a mild- mannered boy, filled with a deep desire to do the right thing and keep the Earth safe from the forces of darkness. It was what the Council had taught him since earliest childhood and he had embraced it whole-heartedly. It was what had made the Council choose him as one of the candidates for the Huntsman and, of this he was certain, it was also what had made the Huntsman choose him as its host.  
  
Now, though, a hatred and rage the likes of which he had never even imagined filled his body, caused his blood to boil in his veins. This man was stealing what should be his. The union of Slayer and Huntsman was necessary to keep the world safe and therefore this interloper was an agent of darkness, whether he knew it or not.  
  
Jackson knew what he had to do. The right thing to do. The only thing to do.  
  
#  
  
Riley and Angel had about half a second of warning. A movement in the underbrush beside the road, a growl like an animal would utter it. Both of them were trained combatants and familiar with the dangers that could lurk in the shadows. It was broad daylight, though, and neither of them had expected an attack at this time. Especially not from something that was so much more than merely human.  
  
Jackson King moved in a blur and was in striking distance before either of them could even blink. A thunderous roundhouse kick took both of them off their feet, sending them to the hard concrete of the sidewalk. Riley recognized King even as he went down, the pain from the blow almost causing him to black out.  
  
King could probably have killed them both in those first few seconds, but instead he took a step back, a snarl on his youthful face.  
  
"Get up, you bastard," he growled at Angel. "We haven't even started."  
  
Riley and Angel both struggled back to their feet, sharing a brief glance. King was stronger than either of them, probably stronger than both of them put together, and much faster. The only chance they had was to team up. Riley had no idea what kind of fighting skills Angel possessed, but he figured that anyone who had been around a fighter like Buffy for years was bound to know some tricks.  
  
They attacked together, trying to hit King from two sides at once, but the Huntsman was too quick for them. He moved in a blur and Riley did not even see the blow that floored him again. The crunch of a breaking rib echoed through his head and he hit the pavement hard, stars exploding in front of his eyes.  
  
Angel did not fare much better. Riley did not know it, of course, but Angel was still trying to adjust to his reduced level of strength and speed. As it was his mind, still accustomed to the blinding quickness of the undead, was fully able to keep up with the rapid pace of King, but his body just did not respond with the same speed. His limbs seemed to move with infinite slowness and, though he did see the blows coming, he was unable to protect himself from them.  
  
Riley flinched when he saw Angel take a swing, only to have his arm caught and quickly broken with a sickening crunch. The other man screamed with the pain, a scream that only grew louder when King drove his elbow down on the shattered limb once again. Riley struggled back up, but was too slow to prevent King from hitting Angel in the face, a punch that almost caved his head in, drawing blood from the shattered nose.  
  
Though he was still dazed Riley attacked again, actually managing to land a blow this time. King was preoccupied with beating on Angel and had apparently forgotten him. A sharp hook to his gut caused the Huntsman to double over, Riley quickly capitalizing by bringing both his fists down on the younger man's neck. Angel reacted almost at the same time and, despite reeling in pain, drove his knee up hard into King's face just as the Huntsman was going down from Riley's blow.  
  
Angel stumbled after this effort, almost blacking out, and Riley could only stare as King simply flipped back to his feet, shrugging off their blows as if it was nothing. Riley knew he had hit him hard enough to hospitalize a normal man, but this guy barely even slowed down.  
  
He actually managed to block the first kick coming his way, but Riley found his legs swept out from under him a heartbeat later and the back of his head made painful contact with the ground once more. A grunt of pain was all he heard from Angel before King was upon him once again, a quick kick to the side of Riley's head that sent him tumbling across the street.  
  
Riley tasted blood in his mouth and the world was quickly growing dark around him. The last thing he saw was Angel, miraculously still on his feet, taking blow after blow from the enraged Huntsman.  
  
Then consciousness finally slipped away and a scream of pain from Angel accompanied him into darkness.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	23. Newcomers and Misunderstandings

Part 22: Newcomers and Misunderstandings  
  
#  
  
Buffy, flanked by Willow, Xander, and Giles, stormed into the waiting area of Sunnydale General, her heart beating a thousand times a minute. Wide eyes searched the room, looking for anyone or anything that might put the horror scenarios in her head to rest. The phone call had been brief, she did not know the whole situation yet. Maybe it was not as bad as it sounded. Maybe ...  
  
She spotted Riley standing near the nurse station and darted toward him.  
  
"Riley," she yelled, catching his attention. The moment he turned toward her she almost stopped dead in her tracks.  
  
Riley's face was a mess of bruises, a large bandage covering half his forehead. One eye was completely swollen shut and the other was bloodshot, seeming to take too long to focus on her. Riley leaned heavily on the desk, his body language screaming of pain and discomfort. She could see more bandages around his chest through his half-buttoned shirt.  
  
"What happened?" she demanded.  
  
"King attacked us," Riley managed to tell her, his speech sounding slurred. "Broad daylight, right in the middle of the street. Which was our luck, I guess. Apparently he ran off when some pedestrians came along. At least that it was they told me. I was out cold by that time."  
  
"Where ... where is Angel, Riley?"  
  
He looked down, wringing his hands.  
  
"He ... he was the one King was after, Buffy. The bastard took just enough time to ... to make sure I didn't interfere. I got off easy, all things considered. Angel, though ..."  
  
"Tell me," Buffy pleaded, the look on her face breaking Riley's heart.  
  
"I don't really know," he finally admitted. "He's still in the emergency room. Has been for over two hours now. They ... they won't tell me anything."  
  
Buffy immediately turned toward the nurse behind the desk.  
  
"I ... I need to know about a patient. His name is Angel, Angel O'Connor. How is he?"  
  
Angel's legal identity was only about a year old, established with some assistance from Willow. O'Connor had been his real name back when he had been alive in 18th century Ireland. According to current public records, though, he was a man of 26, born in New York, no living family.  
  
"Are you a relative?" the nurse asked.  
  
"I'm his wife," Buffy answered without hesitation.  
  
The nurse looked through her files for a moment. "I'm afraid they are still busy with your husband, Mrs. O'Connor. I can't tell you anything at the moment. Sorry."  
  
"They've been at it for two hours!" Desperation crept into her voice. "There must be something, please! I need to know that he's all right!"  
  
The nurse was about to repeat her earlier statement, but the lost look on the young woman's face swayed her.  
  
"I'll see what I can find out," she told her. "I'll be back in a minute."  
  
It was the longest minute of Buffy's life and she did not even hear the encouraging words her friends said to her, telling her that Angel was tough and had survived worse. The only thing she could think of was the fact that he had been back in her life only so short a time. It was not fair that this had happened. Did they not deserve a break just once? A little happiness after everything they had gone through?  
  
"King must have figured out that Angel and Buffy are a couple," Giles mused. "Maybe he hoped that getting rid of Angel would ... help things along."  
  
Buffy's head snapped toward the Watcher, the look of fury in her eyes making him take a step back.  
  
"If something has happened to Angel then King is a dead man, Giles!"  
  
The absolute honesty in her voice sent a chill down everyone's spine.  
  
"He is human, Buffy," Giles reminded her, "and not in control of his actions."  
  
"I don't care! If Angel ..."  
  
The nurse came back out in the company of a tired-looking doctor and Buffy was upon them in a heartbeat.  
  
"What is it? How is he? Will he be okay?"  
  
"We have just moved him into intensive care," the doctor told her with a sad look on his face. "He ... it's a small miracle that he is still alive, Mrs. O'Connor. Your husband is a very strong man."  
  
"Will he pull through?" Giles asked from behind Buffy, his hand on her shoulder doing nothing to calm her down.  
  
"It's too soon to tell," the doctor admitted. "He has taken some spinal damage and we are not certain how severe a concussion he has sustained. It ... it all depends on him now. If he wakes up within the next few days there is a good chance he will survive. The longer he stays unconscious, though ..."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks as her small body trembled with sorrow and anger.  
  
"Have you spoken to the police yet?" the doctor asked. "They should be out looking for whoever did this to him. I've never seen a human being so methodically beaten up."  
  
"Oh, you will," Buffy whispered, clenching her fists.  
  
"Thank you, doctor," Giles quickly said, pulling Buffy aside. "Please keep us informed on Angel's condition."  
  
Buffy did not resist being moved and Giles maneuvered them towards a deserted corner of the waiting room.  
  
"I will kill him, Giles," she whispered.  
  
"Buffy, even leaving the issue of him being human aside, it's a very bad idea for you to go looking for him. Especially now."  
  
"He's right, Buffy," Willow agreed. "You barely managed to pull away from him last time. There is no telling ..."  
  
"Oh, I won't pull away this time," Buffy interrupted her and started moving toward the exit without another word.  
  
"Buffy, you really shouldn't ...," Riley began, trying to hold her back. A moment later he found himself shoved into the wall so hard his bandaged ribs cried out in protest, the Slayer storming past him without another word.  
  
Moments later she was gone.  
  
"This is not good," Xander said.  
  
"Riley, I believe you should call your colleagues," Giles told the younger man. "It is imperative that we find King before Buffy does."  
  
Riley nodded. Never before had he seen the Slayer like this, so full of anger and rage. He really did not want to get in her way on this. If she found King first ...  
  
#  
  
Her first night in Sunnydale had been rather uneventful, something Julia was thankful for. Simply being here was enough to bring back all sorts of memories she would have preferred to forget. It was bad enough in the light of day, but during the night ...  
  
This second night she finally found a trace. Daniel's contacts had been unable to say where in Sunnydale this 'Special Domestic Operations' unit was holed up, but she was bound to run into one of their units if she kept to those places she remembered the demons hanging out in. Cemeteries, the warehouse district, and the area around the town's only nightclub. Julia did not remember it being called the Bronze, but after twenty years she rather expected a name change or two.  
  
Everything looked much too similar as it was; she was thankful for every little difference.  
  
The sounds of a struggle drew her in, her nose picking up the characteristic stench of vampires. They smelled of old blood and death, cold and metallic. Julia had not been fooled by a vampire's human face since her change, she could always tell. Maybe this was just some vampires besetting a human victim or two. If so, she could use the exercise. If not ...  
  
Julia had barely turned the corner, looking into an alley between two warehouses, when she realized that she had found what she had been looking for. There were vampires, all right, but they were in a situation vampires seldom found themselves in.  
  
There were four of them and they were tossed around by a girl half their size.  
  
"I'm really in a bad mood," the girl growled at her stunned opponents. "But hey, if one of you can maybe tell me where I can find this guy I'm looking for, you'll die quickly."  
  
The vampires just snarled at her and attacked again, no more successful then the first time around. Julia watched with dread as the girl destroyed two of them almost casually, demonstrating a strength and speed so that was far beyond human. Just to make certain Julia took in her scent. Human, but with something else mixed in. Something that was definitely more than human. It erased whatever doubts she might have had left.  
  
Taking her cell phone from her pocket Julia quickly sent an SMS to Daniel. Just one word.  
  
Confirmed.  
  
#  
  
Buffy had never been so angry in her entire life and the unfortunate vampires she had come across in her search for Jackson King were paying the price for it. She did not really think that any of them might know where he was. She just took her fury out on them.  
  
It did not mean she missed the movement at the end of the alley.  
  
"You might as well come out," she yelled as she finished the last vampire. "I know you're there."  
  
It was not King, that much she could tell even without turning around. Now that she knew what she was looking for she could tell when he was close. The feeling was not strong enough to help her zero in on him, unfortunately. Right now she could only tell that he was not in the immediate vicinity, but something else was. Something else that was not quite human.  
  
A woman stepped out into the alley, cold eyes fixing on Buffy. For a moment she thought it might be one of Burke's commandos. She wore black combat suit and her body was in the stance of a trained fighter. But no, she had never seen this woman before and she was, by the looks of her, a good few years older than any member of SDO expect maybe Burke. She looked to be about Buffy's mom's age. That was the only similarity between the two women, though. The woman in front of her looked hard and menacing. Like a killer.  
  
"Why am I not surprised you can sense me," the stranger said. "Like attracts like, does it not?"  
  
"Like?" Buffy asked, confused.  
  
"They didn't tell you about us, did they? Did they even mention that you were not the first, little girl?"  
  
Buffy frowned, but then shook her head and glared at the stranger. "Look, I don't know what your problem is, but I've had a really bad day and there is this guy I have to beat within an inch of his life. So you better get out of my way."  
  
She started stalking past the stranger, but the woman cut her off.  
  
"I'm sorry, but I can't allow that."  
  
"Sister, you just ..."  
  
Before Buffy could finish her sentence the woman in front of her suddenly began to change. Her body hunched over, black fur flowed across the few visible patches of skin. Bones broke and rearranged themselves, fingers lengthened into claws, fangs grew out of her mouth. Only a second or so later Buffy found herself facing a werewolf. A werewolf still standing upright and still wearing a black combat suit.  
  
"Okay, this is new."  
  
Moments later she was fighting for her life as the wolf woman attacked her, claws lashing out so fast that even Buffy's accelerated reflexes had trouble keeping up. The wolf was not fighting like an animal, she quickly realized, but like a trained combatant. Whenever Oz had turned into the wolf he had been pure animal, nothing of the human remaining. Things seemed to be different here.  
  
"We won't allow it," the wolf growled as she tried to eviscerate Buffy with her claws. "Project Inferno is dead and it stays dead."  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?" Buffy ducked a claw swipe and drove her attacker back with a roundhouse kick that would have taken the head off a normal human. The wolf just took a step back.  
  
"They made you strong," she growled. "I'm sorry about this, but if you were in your right mind you'd thank me for it."  
  
"The only one not in her right mind here is you!"  
  
Again the stranger attacked and again Buffy fended her off, though barely. Not only did she seem to have a degree of control over her werewolf form than both Oz and Veruca could only dream of, she was a vicious fighter and fought with a ferocity that, on any other night, Buffy would have found hard to match.  
  
Not tonight, though. Not with Angel in the hospital, hanging onto life by a thread. Not with Jackson King still out there, the blood of her lover still on his hands.  
  
Three minutes into the fight the attacker broke off, cradling a broken arm to her chest and bleeding from a cut above the eye. Buffy was winded as well, but had managed to avoid any hard contact. No scratches from those claws, either. She remembered Giles lecture about avoiding infection by werewolves very well.  
  
"Tell your masters this isn't over," the woman growled as she quickly retreated. "They will suffer the same fate Elling did!" Then she was gone.  
  
Buffy stared after her for a moment, breathing hard and trying to figure out what had just happened. The woman had talked as if Buffy was some kind of lackey. Either this was the weirdest case of mistaken identity she had ever seen or that lady was seriously out of her mind.  
  
Whatever the case, Buffy did not particularly care right now. She could tell Giles about this when she got back. Right now she had a job to finish. King was still out there and she intended to find him.  
  
"I wonder who Elling is," Buffy muttered as she continued her search.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	24. Dirty Laundry

Part 23: Dirty Laundry  
  
#  
  
Riley carefully opened the hospital room door and peeked inside. Just as he had expected. Buffy's hunt for Jackson King had proven fruitless and eventually she had returned to the hospital, opting to stand guard over Angel's bed. Riley was not sure whether being at his side or suspecting that King might come here to finish the job was the stronger motive for her.  
  
"Buffy," he whispered. Unnecessarily, actually, seeing as waking Angel up was just about the best thing that could happen to them right now. Unfortunately the man on the hospital bed never even stirred, only the regular sound of his assisted breathing telling that he was even alive.  
  
Buffy looked up from where she sat beside the bed, dark circles under her eyes. Riley doubted she had been home these last two days or gotten any sleep worth mentioning. Not even Willow had managed to get her away from here for a shower or some decent food.  
  
"Any news?" she asked him, sounding incredibly tired.  
  
"No trace of King yet," he admitted. "The teams are still on the look-out, though. I ... I just wanted to see how you were doing. You and Angel."  
  
She looked down. "No change. He's just ... just lying there. I ..."  
  
A tear slipped down her cheek and Riley walked over, offering her a shoulder. For a moment he thought she would refuse, try to remain as strong as everyone always expected her to be. Then the dam broke, though, and she took him up on his offer.  
  
As she cried in his arms Riley realized that something had changed ever since Angel and him got attacked. Something he had not even noticed in all the uproar. Here he was, holding Buffy in his arms like he had dreamed about more than once ... and it was okay.  
  
Oh, there was still a somewhat bittersweet feeling because he knew she was not his. But there was no resentment, neither directed at her nor at the man in the bed before them because he had what Riley would never have. He did not know exactly how this change had come about, but he was happy for it. Or has happy as he could be considering their current circumstances.  
  
"Wake up soon, big man," he whispered to Angel. "She needs you."  
  
#  
  
"Riley, do you have a minute?"  
  
Riley turned around, seeing Giles coming towards him. He had been about to leave the hospital, reporting back to Burke and hoping that he might have some news about the Huntsman. Buffy really needed some good news now.  
  
"Certainly, sir," Riley said. "What is it?"  
  
"I don't know whether Buffy told you about this, but two days ago, when she went looking for King, she came upon something else. A werewolf."  
  
"A werewolf?" Riley asked, kind of exited. He had met a number of monsters these past few months, things that he never would have believed in as little as half a year ago. Ever since Buffy and Giles had come aboard he learned about even more. Werewolves were among the latter. He had never seen one in the flesh before.  
  
"Yes. The strange things was, though, that, unlike other werewolves we have encountered in the past, this one was ... different. Two nights ago was not a full moon. Apparently this woman was able to control the change and retain complete human intelligence."  
  
"This is amazing. Why are you telling me about this, though? This sounds like something Weinheim would sell his grandmother for."  
  
"I am telling you because, according to Buffy, this woman said some very strange things to her. Buffy was too preoccupied to really think about any of it, but I spent some time going over the notes I made after she told me and ..." his voice trailed off.  
  
Riley almost flinched as Giles scrutinized him intently for a long minute. "I want to know whether I can trust you with this, Riley."  
  
"You know you can, sir."  
  
"I like to think so. I was rather reluctant for Buffy and myself to join your group at first, but everything I've seen so far suggests that it was a good decision. I also believe, though, that there are a lot of things we have yet to know about."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"Apparently this wolf woman attacked Buffy because she thought that she was connected to something called 'Project Inferno'."  
  
The name did not click with Riley. "What is that?"  
  
"I don't know. She also mentioned a name, though. Elling. Not too uncommon a name, I grant you. I had a friend of Buffy's try to find out something about this and, as it turned out, there was a man called Robert Elling, who died right here in Sunnydale almost twenty years ago. The man was a general, Riley, and attached to some sort of intelligence group. His death was deemed an accident. Apparently he was attacked and killed by wild dogs."  
  
Riley tried to digest all that information.  
  
"You see why I am a bit concerned?" Giles asked.  
  
"I see it, sir. But you don't honestly think ..."  
  
"I think that twenty years ago something went on here in Sunnydale, something that caused a werewolf to attack Buffy because she thought she was somehow mixed up in it. We have a dead general with intelligence ties and all this happens but a few months after your group, an intelligence unit, turns up here in Sunnydale. What am I supposed to think, Riley?"  
  
#  
  
"General Robert Elling?" Burke asked, frowning. "That name does sound familiar."  
  
Riley looked at his superior, trying to see past that professionally neutral face of his. "Any idea where you know it from, sir?"  
  
"Not off the bat, no. And Mr. Giles thinks that this might somehow be connected with the attack upon Ms. Summers two nights ago?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Apparently this wolf woman thought Buffy was mixed up in something called Project Inferno and mentioned General Elling in the process."  
  
Burke went silent, obviously deep in thought.  
  
"Sir, is there anything I should know about?" Riley asked.  
  
After a long minute Burke looked up, the frown having deepened.  
  
"I wish I knew, Riley. When I was first considered for this job there were some rumors floating around Langley. Something about how the company was not as surprised about this sudden discovery of the supernatural as it should have been. There were all sorts of stories of some sort of black budget projects gone terribly wrong. Frankenstein was mentioned at least twice. I did not believe any of this crap, figured it was just people's way of trying to overcome the shock of something like this going unnoticed for so long."  
  
He shook his head. "Let me make some inquiries, Riley. If Robert Elling was involved in any kind of cover-up right here in Sunnydale we really should know about it."  
  
Riley nodded. He trusted Burke, trusted that the older agent would do the right thing. He was not so sure about Burke's superiors, though. Maybe he had just seen a few too many spy movies himself. The government did not do things like they showed on the X-Files. This was a straightforward mission to contain a threat to the American people, nothing else.  
  
Maybe some hours of putting his bruised body through training would help distract him.  
  
#  
  
"Y-you sure t-this is g-going t-to work?" Tara asked.  
  
Willow smiled at her friend, glad that the blonde witch had agreed to help her with this. She had known her for only a relatively short time now, of course, but it felt like it had been much, much longer. She was not quite sure why that was, or why she felt so reluctant about introducing Tara to the rest of the gang.  
  
Right now she was just glad to have some help.  
  
"It should," Willow explained happily. "This is a spell used for opening locked doors and unveiling hidden entrances. Which is just what I want to do, just in a cyperspacy way, you know?"  
  
"T-this is a c-crime, isn't it?"  
  
"Well ... technically. B-but it's about helping people, so ..."  
  
"I agreed to h-help, Willow," Tara calmed her down. "I'm j-just worried that ... w-what if someone notices?"  
  
"They won't! It's magic!"  
  
The two witches smiled at each other, then arranged the final ingredients of the spell around Willow's trusty laptop. She had never before used magic to help with her hacking, but if Giles' suspicions were correct than the only place where they might find information to help them was liable to be protected by the best firewalls and encryption the taxpayers' money could buy. Willow had confidence in her abilities, but not enough to try and hack her way into the CIA's database without some help on the side.  
  
"Ready?" Willow asked.  
  
Tara nodded and they started to chant softly, their hands touching, fingers interlacing. Willow felt the same strange feeling of electricity she felt every time her and Tara did magic together, had felt ever since that first night when they had run from the Gentlemen together. She was not sure what exactly it was, but it felt good. Really good.  
  
The keys on her laptop began moving of their own accord, guided by the two witches' thoughts. Numbers and columns appeared on the screen, flowing past so fast that they could barely follow. Dozens of password prompts and security warnings were bypassed in a heartbeat, penetrated with an ease that defied description. Willow felt more powerful than she ever had before. It was so easy.  
  
Then they found something.  
  
"Project Inferno," Tara whispered. "That is what w-we are l-looking for?"  
  
Willow just nodded, completely entranced by what she read on her screen.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	25. Preparations for War

Part 24: Preparations For War  
  
#  
  
The man walking into the Sunnydale Roadside Motel seemed to be in his late forties or early fifties, though the few gray hairs and many lines in his face were the only outward signs of age. The body visible beneath the muscle shirt he wore was trim and lean, tanned skin stretching over streamlined muscle. He wore fatigue pants and military boots, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.  
  
He walked directly into a room without knocking and four heads turned to look at him.  
  
"You're late," one of the three men already present complained.  
  
"Blame United Airlines," he simply said, dropping his bag beside the door and taking a moment to study the others.  
  
Julia Blackwood looked as beautiful as he remembered her, twenty years having done little to change that. Not a silver streak to be found in her short-cropped black hair, the few lines on her face accenting her natural good looks. She looked worried, though, her dark eyes overcast like a storm- clouded sky.  
  
Henry Marcs stood next to her, leaning against the wall with arms crossed over his chest. He was the youngest of those present, having been barely out of his teens when they had first been here all these years ago. His blonde hair hung down his head in unruly strands and green eyes were studying the newcomer in return. The look in them was anything but friendly.  
  
Allan Rush and Joshua Dandridge stood a little off to the side, both of them with nearly identical frowns on their faces. Allan was deeply tanned and black-haired, Joshua a pale blonde who could have been the poster child for every Aryan organization in the whole world. The two of them were living proof of the old saying that opposites attracted.  
  
Daniel Stone finished his inspection of the team and nodded as if satisfied with what he saw. All of them looked like they had stayed in fighting shape and he could practically feel the anger coming off of them in waves. Except for Allan and Joshua none of them were friends. If they had ever been then circumstances and twenty years without seeing each other had taken care of that. What they did have was a common enemy and that was more than enough.  
  
"You all know why we're here," Daniel said, skipping the pleasantries. "Julia, if you'd be so kind?"  
  
Julia described her encounter with the blonde girl to the others, sparing none of the details. Her strength, her speed, the level of skill someone her age should not be capable of possessing. How her scent was human, but not quite.  
  
The same kind of scent every single person in this motel room had.  
  
"I don't think they told them about us," Julia concluded. "If anything she seemed confused by my presence."  
  
Daniel nodded. "I expected as much. Why tell the new guys about the bad old days, eh? Would only scare them off."  
  
"Any indication that there are more where that girl came from?" Joshua asked.  
  
"Not that I've seen. I've heard some rumors in a demon bar downtown, though. Something about a young man who is tearing through vampires and other assorted critters on a nightly basis. They also chat about black-clad commandoes who patrol the cemeteries, though these seem to be a lot less dangerous.  
  
"One other thing. I've heard one vampire in that bar refer to our little blonde as 'the Slayer'. I couldn't find out what they meant by that, though."  
  
"It's the vamps' version of the bogeyman," Allan explained. "What they tell little vampires so they behave. Nothing but a legend."  
  
"Some vamps probably saw her in action and came up with that as the only explanation," Daniel theorized. "They wouldn't know about Project Inferno."  
  
"Let's keep it that way," Henry growled.  
  
"Agreed! Tonight we will try and find one of those patrols Julia heard about. Follow them back to whatever place this SDO is using as their staging area here in town. Once we know where they put up house ..."  
  
He left the sentence unfinished and five grim faces shared a look of deadly determination.  
  
#  
  
Thomas Burke had about half a second to save his filled coffee mug from crashing to the floor when someone flung a folder onto his desk, knocking quite a few assorted items down in the process. He managed to catch the mug, hissing when some drops of the hot coffee spilled onto his hands.  
  
"Nice reflexes," someone commented in a scalding voice. "Hope you are just as quick with explanations."  
  
Burke looked up and saw Buffy Summers standing beside his desk, her face filled with anger and suspicion. He frowned, puzzled. Riley had told him about Ms. Summers' boyfriend and how this Huntsman guy had put him in the hospital, was still in coma after nearly a week. Was she angry because SDO still had not managed to find any trace of him?  
  
"Ms. Summers, I don't ..."  
  
"Project Inferno," she just said, motioning at the folder.  
  
Burke froze, his eyes slowly turning to the item on his desk. Numb fingers slowly opened it and regarded the first printout, his eyes quickly scanning the content. His heart skipped a beat when he recognized the coding at the top of the page. The one that translated along the lines of "SO INCREDIBLY TOP SECRET THAT NO ONE EVEN KNOWS IT EXISTS".  
  
"How did you ...?" he began.  
  
"You told me that the government never knew about the supernatural before the Mayor died," she interrupted him. "You told me that you knew nothing about vampires, demons, the whole boogedy boo show. You told me that the only thing this operation wants to accomplish was to destroy the monsters."  
  
In a motion too quick for him to even perceive she had him by the throat, wrenching him out of his chair and pinning him hard against the nearest wall. Quite a few agents close by jumped out of their chairs, some of them reaching for their guns.  
  
"No guns," Burke forced out through his constricted throat. "Ms. Summers, I assure you ..."  
  
"You have about ten seconds to explain this to me before I get really angry, Burke."  
  
With a final glare she let him go, taking a step back and folding her arms across her chest. Burke massaged his aching throat.  
  
"Project Inferno," he nodded. "Yes, I've heard of it. Heard of it yesterday, to be precise. Riley told me that this creature you fought mentioned it and I made a few discreet inquiries. I ... I'm not really allowed to talk about any of it, though. It's about ten levels above top secret."  
  
"How about I talk to you then?" Buffy offered sarcastically. "Project Inferno, codename for a black budget project that took place right here in Sunnydale in the late 1970s. Commanded by one General Robert Elling. About a hundred Frankenstein-wannabe scientists worked on possible military applications of the monsters or, as you called them back then, hostile sub- terrestrials. That ring any bells, Burke?"  
  
Once again Burke was stunned, unable to utter a word. How did she know all this? It had taken him almost a week to find out about Project Inferno and he had been forced to call in just about every favor ever owed to him to get what little he knew. This thing had been buried so deep that even the best computer experts at the Pentagon would need months to dig up everything.  
  
"When your little Frankensteiners thought they were ready," Buffy continued, seeming to grow angrier by the minute, "this Elling guy called in some kind of special military unit. Told them that they would have some super-secret assignment here in Sunnydale. Instead you used them as guinea pigs. Even had a funky name for them. Team 666."  
  
Buffy got into Burke's face. "Four of them died, Burke, and the rest were transformed into some kind of human-demon half-breeds. Was this what you had planned for these guys?" She motioned to encompass the people watching them right now, about half of them agents of the operation teams. "How many of them were scheduled for a little demon-enhancement procedure, Burke?"  
  
Burke finally managed to regain his composure and reestablished the neutral look on his face. He was all too well aware that some of his agents were giving him looks of slight suspicion.  
  
"Ms. Summers, you have my word that nothing of what you may have read in those files, no matter how you got your hands on them, was known to me at the start of this mission. I was on the level with you and it is this mission's goal to eliminate the supernatural threat, not to exploit it."  
  
He held her gaze, daring her to call him a liar. Finally Buffy took a deep breath and nodded for him to continue.  
  
"As I said, I only found out about Project Inferno yesterday. I don't know much about it, but I do know that it went horribly wrong. So wrong, in fact, that those few who survived it decided to bury the whole thing and forget it ever existed. They were successful. They were so successful that, a few years later, no one in the company even knew that demons and vampires existed, much less that any attempt to exploit them had ever been undertaken."  
  
"Great," Buffy snorted. "So your bosses managed a successful feat of selective memory. Big cheers for them. Unfortunately I get the feeling that not everyone involved managed to put things out of their minds quite so successfully, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
She took the folder and pulled out a piece of paper, shoving it into Burke's face. It was the first page of a personnel file, the picture of a young woman immediately drawing his eyes. He read the name next to the image.  
  
Gunnery Sergeant Blackwood, Julia M. K.I.A. August 29, 1979  
  
"That is the woman who attacked me last week," Buffy growled at him. "Quite lively for someone who was supposedly killed in action during an undisclosed combat operation twenty years ago, wouldn't you say?"  
  
How had she gotten her hands on these files, Burke wondered again.  
  
"Are you certain that this ...?"  
  
"She was one of five survivors of this experiment your bosses undertook, Burke," Buffy interrupted him once again. "According to the files they were all killed later on, along with this General Elling and just about everyone else involved, when Project Inferno was declared a failure. Only someone screwed up because she is alive and well. Why do I get the feelings her four friends might also be? Any comments?"  
  
Burke walked past her, sitting down on his desk again and resting his head in his hands. Why was this happening to him? This was supposed to be a simply, straightforward mission. Kill some beasties. No one had said anything about working with a super- and head-strong girl or trying to explain twenty-year old screw-ups to someone who could tear off his head in a hot second.  
  
"Ms. Summers ... Buffy. If you are right ... if all this really happened the way it was described in those files ... I'm not under the illusion that everything that is done in the name of the government is all shiny and proper, okay? I know that some terrible things have been done by people who professed to having nothing but the national interest at heart. I never met General Elling and I never heard of this Project Inferno before yesterday, but there is one thing I can guarantee you."  
  
He looked up at her.  
  
"I am here to kill demons, Buffy. That's all. If everything you just told me is true then that's just one more reason to carry through with that mission. And if those five unfortunate souls are really alive and looking to get revenge for something that happened twenty years ago ... well, they have my sympathies, but I will not allow this mission to fail because of other people's mistakes, okay?"  
  
"What are you saying?" Buffy asked him, suspicion still very much in evidence on her face.  
  
"I am saying, Buffy, that, should these people prove themselves dangerous to the success of this mission, then I will do what is necessary. I have a question for you in return. You are the Slayer. You yourself told me that this woman you fought is not human and tried to kill you. What will you do if they should turn up again?"  
  
Buffy stared at him, but had to admit that she had no answer to that particular question.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	26. Between the Rock and the Hard Place

Part 25: Between the Rock and the Hard Place  
  
#  
  
"Hey, Buff?" Xander asked, peeking in the door. "Can we come in?"  
  
Buffy looked up from where she was sitting by Angel's bedside, holding one of his clammy hands. He had been like this for ten days now, they knew. Ten days and with every hour that passed the chances of him ever waking up again grew smaller and smaller. The only signs that he was even alive were the steady beep of the heart monitor and the wheezing of the respirator.  
  
Buffy's face was a mask of tired misery as she tried to work up a smile for her friends. Xander came in, followed by Willow. The redhead felt guilty that there was nothing she could do for Angel. She and Tara had looked into healing spells, but no such luck. As Tara had said, magic was good for a lot of things but healing was not really among them. Those that could heal with magic were few and far between and required years, if not decades of training.  
  
"Any change?" Xander sat down beside Buffy, putting a hand on her shoulder. He still was not among Angel's biggest fans, but things had gotten a lot better since the threat of Angelus' returning had been banished forever. These days Angel was just a regular guy, or as regular a guy as a former vampire could be. A guy whom Buffy loved and who might well die right before their eyes without any of them able to do anything about it.  
  
"None," Buffy said, working hard to keep her voice from cracking up. "He's just ... but that's not why I wanted to talk to you guys. I ... I tried to work this out on my own and ... well, I had a long talk with Angel, but ... it was really more of monologue, you know?"  
  
Both Xander and Willow could clearly smell the gallows's humor and wisely refrained from commenting.  
  
"I also thought about Giles, but ... well, Giles is already way past suspicious about Burke and his people after everything that we found out as of late and ... I just don't think he can really help me work this out. I wanted to talk to you guys."  
  
She let go of Angel's hand, though reluctantly, and grabbed one each of both Willow and Xander.  
  
"Look, guys, I know I haven't been the best kind of friend these past few months, what with Angel, teaming up with SDO, the Huntsman, college, and everything. I wanted to say sorry for that."  
  
Xander managed to keep his eyes from tearing up. True, he had been feeling kind of neglected these last few months. It had gotten a bit better after Buffy told them all about SDO, taking them into her confidence once again. He was also aware of how much was on her plate right now, how many things she had to worry about all at the same time. Still, he would have been more than human if some small feeling of abandonment had not remained.  
  
"There is nothing you have to be sorry about," he said, meaning it. "Now, if you were the snobbish college girl ditching the embarrassing former friend who couldn't make the grade, that would be something else. But you are not and I know it, Buff. And if there is anything I can do to help, just let me know, okay?"  
  
"We're the Slayerettes, remember?" Willow smiled at her. "It's in our charter to help the Slayer whenever she needs it. And that goes double for our friend Buffy."  
  
"You guys," Buffy said, choking back a sob.  
  
She then told them about her confrontation with Burke. Xander knew the gist of the files Willow had somehow managed to pull out of the pentagon or from whatever super-secret computer she had gotten it from. To hear about the details, though, to realize that someone in the government had actively tried to enhance human soldiers by demonizing them ... it was way beyond disgusting.  
  
"And you think these five guys are back and looking for some major pay- back?" he asked.  
  
"I think they already got it once," Buffy said. "At least one of these five was pumped up with werewolf blood and I don't think it's a coincidence that this General Elling was reportedly torn apart by wild dogs."  
  
Buffy paused for a moment, hoping that mentioning a werewolf would not get Willow thinking of Oz again. The witch seemed to have gotten a handle on that this last month or so and Buffy did not want to put her back to square one. Willow just nodded, though, no sign of heartbreak to be seen.  
  
"So what?" Xander asked. "They think someone is starting up their old theme park again and want to register their protest to the new owners?"  
  
"Something like that," Buffy nodded. "Only ... I believe Burke when he says that all he wants to do is kill demons. I trust my instincts on this. But ... maybe he doesn't know everything, maybe his bosses are not telling him everything."  
  
She sighed deeply, her hand unconsciously clutching Angel's again.  
  
"At this point it doesn't really matter, though. I mean ... Burke is all business. If those Team 666 guys get in his way he wants to do what's necessary. And from the way that woman attacked me without hesitation I kinda get that she and her partners are not much interested in explanations, either."  
  
Buffy shook her head. "I get the terrible feeling that they're headed for a collision and I really don't know what to do about it."  
  
"Well ... that woman, Julia, she did attack you."  
  
"Yeah, I know, but ... you read the files, Will. You know what was done to them. Can you really blame them for trying to keep it from happening again?"  
  
"No," Xander interjected, "but I can blame them for trying to kill someone without getting the whole story first. Buff, these guys might have all the right in the world to feel pissed off, but that doesn't excuse killing people. Do you really think they'll just tell Burke, Riley, and the other secret agent guys off and slap their wrists a little?"  
  
"But it's all right for Burke to kill them in return?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Buffy," Willow said softly, "maybe you are putting too much thought into this. We don't really know that any of these people except that woman are still alive and ... and maybe they won't just come along and start killing people. I mean ... yeah, so they are part demon after some government experiment used them as guinea pigs, but ..."  
  
Willow stopped herself, realizing that her babble was going in circles.  
  
"What I meant to say was, maybe it won't come down to you having to stop them from killing each other."  
  
"But what if it does, Will? What then?"  
  
She turned to look at Angel again, not clutching his limp hand with both of hers.  
  
"I had a dream last night," she told them. Or maybe she told him. "I don't know if it was one of those prophetic Slayer things, but ... well, I woke up screaming."  
  
Buffy had barely spent a night in her and Willow's dorm room as of late, staying either at the hospital or at Angel's mansion, the place where they had spent the all too short time between his return to Sunnydale and the attack of the Huntsman. The thought of her sleeping alone in that dark and empty place nearly drove tears into Willow's eyes.  
  
"What did you see?" Willow asked.  
  
"A battle. I'm not really sure who was fighting and why, but ... I was right in the middle and I knew that I had to stop it or people would die. Innocent people. But I couldn't stop them, none of them. There were so many faces, all of them filled with hatred. And then ... King was there, too."  
  
Xander balled his fists. He wanted to get his hands on that bastard Jackson King, never mind the fact that he would probably not fare any better in that encounter than Riley and Angel, both of whom were much better fighters than he was. King had remained quiet ever since attacking Angel and Giles theorized that the young man was somehow waiting for Buffy to come to him, now that he had 'freed' her of her human boyfriend.  
  
Buffy certainly wanted to find him, though not for the reason King might imagine, but it appeared that the splintering of the Slayer force between Buffy and Faith that had allowed Buffy to resist the mating bond with the Huntsman also prevented her from feeling his presence as easily as King seemed to sense hers.  
  
"He was killing people," Buffy continued," killing people left and right, all the while telling me that he was doing it all for me, so that we could be together. And ... and some part of me wanted it that way. Wanted to be with him. I ... I want to hurt him for what he did to Angel, but ... I don't know whether I can. What if ... what if the bond is stronger than me the next time? What if I can't resist and ..."  
  
"You are stronger than that stupid bond, Buff," Xander stopped her rambling. "I know that. When King shows his face you are going to kick his ass, okay?"  
  
"I wish I could be so confident."  
  
Buffy brought Angel's hand up to her cheek. "I just ... what if it happens that way? What if he suddenly turns up in the middle of a battle and ... God, I know there is no good answer to that, guys, I really do. I just need to figure out what to do. About King. About SDO. About those Team 666 guys. All of this really needs one hundred percent of my attention, not to mention my college classes, my boyfriend who might never wake up again, my friends, my mom, and ... it's just too much."  
  
Neither Xander nor Willow knew what to say to that, but they both realized that their friend, super-strong Buffy, was hovering near her breaking point. The man she loved was almost dead. Thanks to the Slayer inside her she was about lose control and maybe fall for the guy who nearly killed Angel. Two groups of people, neither of whom were evil, seemed set to start killing each other and she seemed to be the only interested in stopping them.  
  
Willow moved to Buffy's side, wrapping her arms around her shaking friend. Xander quickly followed suit.  
  
"You're not alone in this, Buffy," Willow whispered. "Whatever happens, we're here to help."  
  
Buffy said nothing, just took whatever comfort she could get from the presence of her friends and kept staring at the slack face of Angel, his skin the same shade of white as the bed sheets. This was not right. He could go out into the sun now. He should be tanned. They should have gone to the beach, just the two of them, just to have some time off.  
  
Things used to be so easy. Black and white. Vampires and the Slayer. Kill the evil guys and never lose a moment of sleep over it. Where were the evil guys now, though? Burke and his men? Certainly not. Good guys, just prepared to cross lines that Buffy refused to. Team 666? Maybe, though after what had been done to them she just could not find it in her heart to blame them.  
  
King? God, how she wanted to just cast him as evil and be done with it. Part of her mind would not let her, though. He was just a boy in the thralls of something much stronger than him. She just got half the vibes he got thanks to the unique situation with Faith and she was barely able to resist. How was he supposed to do it? He had hurt the man she loved and she hated him, but he was not evil, not a demon. Not someone she could just kill and be done with it.  
  
"Is it wrong that I just want to beat up and kill something?" Buffy asked in a low voice, drawing a chuckle from Xander.  
  
"I wouldn't call it the healthiest of urges, but understandable."  
  
A loud beeping sound caused everyone to start and, for a horrible moment, Buffy thought it was some kind of emergency beep from Angel's life support gear. When she realized it was the beeper in her pocket she relaxed visibly, pulling out the offending mechanism to look at it.  
  
"That's Burke," she told the others. "Do you think he found something?"  
  
Not waiting for them to answer she walked over the phone standing on Angel's bedside and dialed the number of SDO's staging area.  
  
"The number you have called is not in service," a recorded voice told her.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	27. Round One

Part 26: Round One  
  
#  
  
There was no real reason for her to be worried, Buffy kept repeating to herself. Even during her short time with SDO Burke had had the number changed four times. It was a line for agents to call in and if someone traced it that someone could get the inside scoop on SDO missions. Maybe it had just been changed again, standard operation procedure, and he had simply forgotten to tell her after their little fight the other day.  
  
Something told her it was not so, though. The same something that made her certain that Burke had not beeped her simply to hold another chat about the morals of killing the survivors of secret government projects.  
  
She remembered the dream again. A battle, people dying left and right. Her and King, the Huntsman, right in the middle and conflicting urges what to do about Angel's assailant tearing her in two.  
  
"Just once," she muttered to herself as she raced toward the SDO warehouse, "I would like to have a prophetic dream about something really neat and beautiful happening soon."  
  
Any hopes she might have entertained soon shattered, though. She was maybe five minutes away from the warehouse when she saw a pillar of smoke rising from the location of SDO's staging area.  
  
"Great!" Buffy ran faster, once again wishing her mom would finally get around to letting her take her driver's test again.  
  
#  
  
Riley was not exactly sure what was happening. It was early evening and a training session with Buffy was supposed to happen in about an hour, though Burke had told them that it might be cancelled. Apparently there was a lot of trouble between him and Buffy at the moment. Riley had not been there to see the blowup, but by all accounts they had been at eac other's throats about this Project Inferno business.  
  
Buffy had left the file she had somehow acquired from the deepest, darkest recesses of the company's computers and Riley had managed to take a look. Not a good enough look to learn all the details of what had happened here in Sunnydale twenty years ago, no. But he had had a chance to look at the photographs of the five survivors of Project Inferno.  
  
It was enough to recognize the people who suddenly burst into the SDO staging area and started attacking them.  
  
They were in luck. A few agents had just been busy preparing the weapons for the patrols later tonight, so they had loaded guns in hand the moment the attackers appeared. Riley shuddered to think what might have happened if they had been unarmed. There were just five attackers, facing off more than twenty agents.  
  
Two agents were already dead, three more wounded severely.  
  
Riley and the others had taken cover behind the lockers on one side of the warehouse, those that were armed laying down enough covering fire to keep them safe for the moment. The attackers might not be human, but they seemed to fear bullets as much as the next guy. They were holed up on the other side, using the gym equipment as cover. It gave Riley just enough time to study them.  
  
There was that woman Buffy had told them about. Julia something, if he remembered right. She, just like all the others, was dressed in black combat gear and armed, but that was as far as the resemblance went. She was not human, she was a wolf walking upright. Her face was elongated into a snout with vicious teeth bared, her hands were claws that barely managed to hold the rifle she carried, yet she still handled it expertly.  
  
The others were not in any way better. Two of them had distorted faces, almost like those the vampires wore when the mask of humanity slipped, yet different. Riley was not really on the up and up about the various demon species that called Sunnydale home and he remembered that these guys were supposed to be some sort of hybrids, so he quickly gave up trying to identify them. Odds were they were stronger than human and might have some other things going for them. One of them had some kind of bony spikes along his forearms, looking sharp enough to cut flesh.  
  
The other two men looked human, at least on first glance. Riley had gotten a good look at one of them earlier and seen his eyes. Reptile eyes. He was not sure whether that was the extent of his 'demonization', but he thought he had caught a flash of fangs, too.  
  
The final member of the attackers had no outward signs of otherness, but Riley knew he was not human in any way, shape, or form. He had led the attack and, with nothing but a gesture, had caused the outer wall of the warehouse to disintegrate. Which made him the most dangerous of these guys as far as Riley was concerned.  
  
"We're dead if we keep sitting here," Burke told Riley as he squatted down beside him. "These ... things can tear the whole warehouse apart. They're probably just waiting for some sort of opening."  
  
Riley nodded. Besides, he could see their cover crumbling. The five attackers gave as good as they got firepower-wise and some of the lockers had already fallen prey to the same mysterious disintegration attack that had taken out the outer wall. Riley just hoped it did not work on human flesh.  
  
One of the attackers had thrown a grenade into the upper story communications room and most of their equipment was blown, the room in flames. No way to call for reinforcements. Burke had said something about having beeped Buffy just before things went to hell, but considering their current state of affairs he was not sure whether she would come.  
  
They were on their own.  
  
"Okay, people," Burke told everyone. "Let's show these monsters what's what!"  
  
#  
  
Jackson King knew that things still were not right. He just did not understand why. He had taken out the enemy that had bespelled the Slayer. She should be free now, free to come to him and fulfill their joint destiny. Only she had not. He had watched her from a distance and it became obvious that she could not feel his presence unless he was really close. That was not right, either.  
  
He was also aware that other strange things were going on in this town, stranger things than the assorted demon rabble he used to work out his frustrations. He had lost count of the number of vampires he had killed since coming here. It did not help much. He had heard stories of some kind of commando-like humans hunting vampires as well and approved. It was about time that the humans pulled their weight in the battle of light against dark.  
  
He sometimes wondered when exactly he had stopped thinking of himself as human. Not that he considered himself subhuman like the demons, no. He was just ... more than human. Better.  
  
These commando types seemed to be looking for him, though, that much he had overheard while shadowing one of their patrols a few nights ago. Apparently they had orders to bring him in, alive. He did not know why they wanted him, they had not talked about that. Just following orders. Well, maybe they wanted to learn from him. They did not seem too proficient at taking out vampires, though he had noticed that their performance was improving steadily.  
  
Jackson had decided against confronting them, instead mapping their patrol patterns and staying out of their paths. It also made for a better coverage of Sunnydale's many demonic hotspots if they did not patrol the same areas.  
  
His thoughts were on the Slayer once more, trying to figure out what he had missed, why she was not with him yet. He could have confronted her again, of course, like he had done once before. It had gone well enough for a while, but the ending had been anything but pleasant. No, he resolved, until he knew what kept them apart he would not risk it. He wanted things to be perfect the next time they met.  
  
Which all pointed towards this being another boring and frustrating night here in Sunnydale. At least until he sensed the sounds of a fight close by. A fight that apparently included firearms and, or so his senses told him, demonic beings.  
  
This could be interesting.  
  
#  
  
Buffy arrived at the warehouse just in time to see everything descend into total chaos. There was a big hole in the wall and through it she could enter into the main area of SDO's headquarters. Lockers had been overturned, gym equipment trashed, several bodies were lying on the floor and not moving.  
  
She spotted and Riley and Burke, apparently leading a charge against the attackers. They all wore the same clothing, black combat suits, but it was not too hard to pick out those that did not belong here. Buffy saw the woman that had attacker her, as well as two guys with inhuman faces. She identified the other two by the simple fact that SDO operatives were trying to take them down and not having much luck.  
  
"Team 666, I presume," she mumbled, throwing herself into the fray. This battle had to end before more people died.  
  
The first attacker she came upon looked almost like a vampire and her senses seemed to mark him as one as well. Buffy did not know how one was supposed to cross a human and a vampire or what kind of abilities it might give this guy, but she had little time to care. He did not see her coming, too busy with fighting three SDO agents at once and winning.  
  
She aimed a knockout kick at his head, but some instinct made him move at the last instant. Her kick only caught his shoulder, sending him stumbling into a spin. Buffy quickly followed up, though, and he was caught unprepared by her second blow. It hit his chin with crushing force and threw him back.  
  
"You again," someone growled and Buffy had no more time to check whether she had successfully knocked out her opponent or not. The wolf woman, Julia, was suddenly upon her, swiping away with razor-sharp claws.  
  
"This has to stop," Buffy yelled while frantically ducking her blows. "I know who you are now and you are wrong! This is not a repeat of Project Inferno."  
  
"Sure it isn't," Julia sneered, still trying to land a blow. "Super-strong girls join the military all the time these days."  
  
Buffy quickly gave up her attempts at explaining things. Going into the whole Slayer lore now would only succeed in getting her killed. Julia had no reason to trust her, none of them had, and while she tried to explain more people would die.  
  
"I'm sorry about this," Buffy whispered, then went on the offensive.  
  
#  
  
Jackson had about a second to take it all in - warehouse in flames, huge hole in the wall, commando-type guys fighting all over the place - then all rational thought went out the window. She was here. He had felt her from afar, but now he could see her. See that she was in the midst of battle against some kind of werewolf and did not seem to be faring too good.  
  
His resolve to avoid confronting her was forgotten as the Huntsman took over. His mate was in danger. She was fighting creatures of the dark. Hell, she was in the middle of a fire fight and one of those commandos was as liable to kill her as any of those demons.  
  
Without further hesitation he jumped through the hole and into the fray, not caring whether those in his way were demons or not. He needed to reach her, to fight beside her, watch her back as she would watch his. They were meant to fight together, to destroy the monsters side by side.  
  
Then even that level of thought faded away and there was nothing but combat and enemies to be killed.  
  
#  
  
Buffy felt her strength increase, felt things low in her body clench, and knew that he was here. She looked up, saw him come in, saw the wild gleam in his eyes. Her skin was burning up as she saw him move, the blood thundering in her ears. He was here, her mate, her other half.  
  
No, he was not her other half! Angel was! He had hurt Angel! Angel might die! She wanted to kill this bastard, wanted to make him suffer.  
  
He was here to fight by her side. They would do what they were destined to do.  
  
She would kill him, just break his neck and be done with it!  
  
Together nothing could stand against them. They were invincible.  
  
Buffy screamed as conflicting emotions threatened to tear her apart and could do nothing but somehow keep up her defense against Julia as Jackson reached the first person standing in his way, snapping the agent's neck like a twig.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	28. The Line I Have to Cross

Part 27: The Line I Have to Cross  
  
#  
  
It was routine, really, all too routine an occurrence in a place like Sunnydale. The nurse at her station was jarred out of reading her newspaper by the howling of the emergency monitors. A glance sufficed to tell her that one of the critical patients had just flat lined, the equipment that monitored him screaming for human assistance.  
  
Barely ten seconds later a doctor and three nurses were in the patient's room, doing their best to bring the dying man back from the brink. Adrenalin was injected directly into his heart. Electrical shocks were prepared to jumpstart the failing muscle. Oxygen was forced into his uncooperative lungs.  
  
They all knew, though, that it was rather hopeless. None of them knew how this man had held on as long as he had. It was a minor miracle that he had survived his trip into the hospital, not to mention the many days he had hovered on the edge here in this bed. He was too broken, too damaged. Even if he had somehow managed to come back he would have been crippled for life. As it was, though, that life seemed about to be cut short.  
  
They kept on fighting for his survival, did everything they could to help him cheat death for yet another day, another hour, even another minute. They all feared, though, that Angel O'Connor's luck had finally run out.  
  
#  
  
Buffy inched back from the battle, desperately trying to regain control of herself as the presence of Jackson King roared through her blood like a storm front. The wolf woman, Julia, seemed unaware of the new combatant, pressing her advantage against a suddenly distracted opponent. The battle went on all around them, SDO agents fighting against the attackers called Team 666 and Jackson King attacking whoever came between him and Buffy.  
  
Her nightmare was coming true, Buffy realized, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.  
  
"No," she whispered, her arms working almost on automatic to block Julia's attacks. "Please, no!"  
  
"It's too late to stop," Julia growled, misunderstanding her words. "This has to end and we are going to end it!"  
  
She pushed again and Buffy was too distracted to stop her in time. One of her claws broke through the Slayer's defense and left a deep, bleeding wound on her shoulder. Buffy stumbled back, crying out with the pain.  
  
Jackson King was close enough to hear it, close enough to see it happen.  
  
"You will die for this," he screamed, throwing two SDO agents aside like puppets. Only a heartbeat later he was upon Julia. The wolf woman sensed him at the last possible moment, but was too slow to fend him off before his first blow thundered right into her face.  
  
King's world had narrowed down to this creature before him, the one who had dared to hurt his mate. She would suffer for this. He paid no heed to her attempts to defend herself, the small cuts her claws managed to make inconsequential. Again and again he drove his fists into her body, the sound of breaking bones and cries of pain like music to his ears.  
  
"Stop it," Buffy pleaded, not trusting herself to get any closer. "You're killing her."  
  
He did not even hear her.  
  
She kept one hand pressed against her wound, watching helplessly as Jackson was busy killing Julia. The wolf woman was a bloody mess already, barely fighting back anymore, helpless before the fury of the Huntsman. Jackson was clearly not interested in stopping before she was dead. Buffy wanted to stop him, but she was certain that, should they touch, she would only join him.  
  
With a cry of rage another of the attackers, the one whom Buffy had thought knocked out just minutes ago, came to his comrade's aid. He looked like a vampire, his face distorted, and the punches he threw at Jackson told of his more than human strength.  
  
Buffy saw Jackson take a punishing blow to his face and something inside her snapped.  
  
"Get away from him," she heard herself scream, leaping forward into the fray once more. Power thundered through her body, seeming to increase exponentially with every step toward her mate. She saw the wound on Jackson's forehead, a cut caused by the blow he took, and she could see it close right before her eyes. Her own wound did not bleed any longer, either. She could almost feel the skin knitting back together.  
  
They fell into a fighting rhythm without so much as a word between them, the wide grin on Jackson's face the only sign of his joy upon having her by his side. The attacker was strong, maybe strong enough to have given either of them pause in a one-on-one battle. Against both of them, though, he did not have a chance. He fell to the ground, bleeding and broken, and Jackson raised his fist for the killing blow as Buffy found herself grinning, almost tingling with anticipation.  
  
"No," someone screamed and both of them found themselves airborne, flung away from their intended victim by some unseen force. Buffy had half a second to see one of the remaining three members of Team 666, the only one with no outward sign of being other than human, gesturing at them, the air wavering around his hands. Then she met the wall hard, her head bouncing back from the impact.  
  
The crimson fog that had descended on her brain was wiped away by a flash of pain and Buffy could think straight again, at least for a moment.  
  
The situation was quickly deteriorating, she realized. Burke and his people seemed to hold their own more or less, but she saw quite a few of their number down, lying on the floor unmoving. The attackers had done a thorough job of wrecking the warehouse and flames were quickly spreading. Julia and the vampire half-breed were still down, but the remaining three seemed to be taking up the slack.  
  
Jackson was getting back to his feet and Buffy could feel the roaring in her blood threaten to blot out her thoughts again. She had to end this and fast.  
  
She moved, pouring all her concentration into the physical part of what she had to do. No thinking! No feeling! Just doing! Julia was trying to get back to her feet and Buffy ran by herwithout slowing down, tackling her to the ground again in the process. Jackson was already back up and, seeing her, headed towards her. Buffy did her best to ignore his presence calling out to her, closing her eyes. This had to end. Now.  
  
Moments later she crashed into him, driving her elbow into his belly with every bit of strength she could muster. The air was driven from his body and he fell back, clutching what had to be at least one broken rib. There was no telling how long it would remain broken with his healing powers enhanced by their proximity, but it bought her a few precious seconds.  
  
She kept moving, fearing that pausing even a moment to catch her breath would spell the end of her self-control. One of the SDO agents was about to have his head torn off by the reptile-looking member of Team 666 and moments later she was there, knocking him aside. The man hissed at her, but she was already gone again, heading towards her next target. The guy who had thrown her and Jackson against the wall loomed before her, seemingly taken by surprise by her speed, and she delivered what she hoped was a knockout punch before he could defend himself.  
  
Fortune deserted her then, though, because the final member of Team 666 tackled her to the ground. His face was strangely distorted, as if mother nature had been unable to decide whether to make it human or any of half a dozen demon species Buffy could think of. Moments later she stopped thinking, though, because he grabbed her by the shoulders.  
  
His touch burned like acid and Buffy screamed as it ate away at her skin.  
  
Someone was there to help her and for a moment she feared it was Jackson. Then she saw Riley, though, hitting her assailant in the face with the butt of his assault rifle. He turned to look at her, relief on his face when he saw that she was more or less all right, only to be attacked in turn.  
  
"Stay away from her," Jackson screamed, tearing into Riley like a buzz saw.  
  
Buffy tried to get back to her feet, but weariness was descending on her like a heavy blanket. The pain from her wounds, the call in her blood, the smoke that was quickly filling up the staging area, it all came down on her like a hammer and she stumbled, her balance shot to hell.  
  
One of Riley's colleagues tried to help him, but Jackson barely paid him any heed, swatting him away with a blow that almost caved in the man's head. Buffy saw him land a kick that broke Riley's leg, the young man screaming in pain. Her eyes moved around the room, taking in the many dying and wounded, those already dead. She had seen Jackson kill at least two men, kill them just because they were in his way. Now he was killing Riley.  
  
Sheer determination brought her back to her feet and close to Jackson, her hands reaching out to touch his face. He turned to look at her, letting up on his relentless assault on a bleeding and unconscious Riley. She looked into his eyes, fighting the effect his presence had on her as best as she could, and tried to find ... something. Something that would tell her this could be fixed. Something that would give her hope that she would not have to do this.  
  
The bond between them roared to life with their touch and Buffy imagined she could see right into his mind. His eyes were blazing with rage and joy, the carnage of the battle and the closeness of his mate all that mattered to him. In a heartbeat Buffy saw everything that he was, a boy brought up by the Council and raised with only one thing to give his life meaning. The battle against the dark, nothing else mattered.  
  
She saw how he was taken by the Huntsman, how this blinding force of light took possession of him in an explosion of pain and near-orgasmic pleasure. It had not felt like this for her, she realized. For Jackson, though, it had been a crucible. The Huntsman, freed for the first time in hundreds of years, had taken to him like a firestorm to a dry forest, burning away everything that he had been, making him little more than a chalice for its power.  
  
There were times when Buffy feared what being the Slayer was doing to her. Times when she found herself looking at other people like they were nothing but prey, evaluating how she could best beat them should they turn out to be dangerous. Times when she could not sleep because the night's patrol had seen too little combat, too little hunting. Times when she felt like the Slayer was taking over and everything that had been Buffy Summers would simply disappear.  
  
She saw her every fear manifested in this young man before her and tears rolled down her face.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice drowned out by the fighting. Jackson looked at her, confusion evident on his face.  
  
Buffy's hands tightened around his head and then twisted.  
  
#  
  
Daniel Stone's head was still ringing from the blow the blonde girl had given him, but he was back on his feet and quickly surveyed the scene around him. The warehouse was an inferno and would not hold much longer. The SDO agents, though hurt and scattered, were fighting with desperation now. Two of his people were down and hurt, the others not looking too great either.  
  
Then he saw the blonde girl that had almost knocked him into the middle of next week. Saw her hovering near that other super-soldier, the one who had torn both into Daniel's team and his own people with a strength and ferocity that had caused even someone who had survived Project Inferno to flinch.  
  
Daniel did flinch when she grabbed his head and snapped his neck with a single movement.  
  
For a moment he was frozen, trying to figure out what to do now. This could be their chance. The enemy was in disarray and one of their strongest had just bought it. He decided against it, though. The warehouse could come down on them any moment now and his team was hurt. They had done good here today, hurting the enemy, destroying their base, getting a good view of their capabilities. It was time to regroup.  
  
"Fall back," he yelled at his people, running toward a semi-conscious Julia at the same time. From the corner of his eyes he saw Allan glare at him, seemingly not content with the battle ending already, but Daniel paid him no heed. A moment later Allan headed toward Joshua, helping the wounded man back to his feet. Daniel grabbed Julia and quickly hoisted her up.  
  
The SDO agents realized the attackers were leaving and did not put up much of a fight to keep them from doing it. None of them wanted to stick around in this flaming coffin, either.  
  
#  
  
"Time of death ...," the doctor began, only to be interrupted when the man he had been about to pronounce dead suddenly convulsed.  
  
Angel arced of the bed, his entire battered body gripped by a seizure strong enough to break bones. His scream, barely muffled by the respirator's tube stuck down his throat, caused all of the medical personnel to flinch back in fear.  
  
Moments later two male nurses were moving in, looking to restrain this man who should not have been able to move for the life of him. Both of them were big men, strong enough to subdue even the most difficult of patients. Both of them were flung away like puppets, though, as Angel rose and ripped right through the many wires and tubes fastened to his body.  
  
"This is impossible," the doctor managed to say. This man was crippled, even the slightest movement should have been beyond him. Not to mention that he had been dead for at least five minutes. Then he, too, found himself in the way of this impossibly revived man and moments later his consciousness failed him as his head made painful contact with the wall.  
  
#  
  
Buffy had dropped to her knees, the burning warehouse around her fading away as she cradled Jackson King's body close. Unseeing eyes were staring up to her, set into the face of a young man whose life she had just ended.  
  
"I'm sorry," she muttered over and over again. "I'm so sorry."  
  
"Ms. Summers," Burke yelled at her, appearing by her side. "We have to get out of here."  
  
He knelt down to pick up Riley, slinging him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Buffy did not react to his presence at all, looking like she was in shock. For a moment he marveled at the paradox this young girl was, the fiercest fighter he had ever seen one second, a grieving child the next. This was no time for psycho-analysis, though.  
  
"Come on!" He grabbed her by the arm and she did not resist as he pulled her along, her eyes still riveted to the lifeless body of Jackson King. She had killed him. A human being and she had killed him.  
  
A small part of her mind wondered why she could still feel the presence of the Huntsman somewhere at the edges of her perception.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	29. Crawling Through the Wreckage

Part 28: Crawling Through the Wreckage  
  
#  
  
Giles stormed past the door of the small office building, barely pausing long enough in order not to get shot by the rather antsy SDO agents who were keeping a close watch. Burke had called Giles only a few minutes ago, giving him the barest summary of what had gone down at the warehouse, asking him to come quickly.  
  
He had said there was something wrong with Buffy.  
  
Giles barely noticed the rifles pointed his way, too preoccupied with his own racing thoughts. Buffy had told him about the nightmare she had had a few days ago. The one that showed her fighting in a large battle and encountering Jackson King, the Huntsman. Now that nightmare seemed to have come to pass and Giles was deathly afraid.  
  
Shortly before he had had a discussion with Doyle, Angel's half-demon friend. Ever since Angel had returned to Sunnydale more or less full-time Doyle had stayed here as well. It was his mission to guide Angel, he said, a mission he had not been released from after Angel's becoming human again. Angel had told both Doyle and Giles about the Oracles' words, how he would have another chance to help the Slayer.  
  
Doyle was wondering whether that chance would still come to pass, seeing Angel's current state. His main worry, though, was a vision he had had just about half an hour before Burke's call. The vision had shown him Buffy, the girl immersed in darkness and stalked by some kind of predator. It was extremely vague, but he was convinced that Buffy needed all the help she could get now. Doyle would have come along if there had been any way to explain his presence to Burke. If nothing else, he said, it was what Angel would have wanted him to do.  
  
As it was the half-demon was waiting outside in the car.  
  
"Where is she?" Giles yelled upon seeing Burke. The senior agent of SDO looked like he had been through a war. He seemed to have managed a chance of clothes, but not taken the time for a shower. His skin was darkened by ash and sooth, his jaw swollen from a blow he must have received. His left arm was in a sling and he was leaning heavily against a table, a tired look on his face.  
  
"Mr. Giles, thank you for coming."  
  
"Where is Buffy?"  
  
The senior agent seemed to fold in upon himself, shuddering with exhaustion.  
  
"We were attacked. The details are not that important but, during the battle, Jackson King turned up. He was out of control, attacking and killing people on both sides."  
  
Giles nodded. He had been afraid that something like that would happen. Buffy had foreseen it.  
  
"King killed two of my agents," Burke said bitterly, "and was about to add Riley to the list as well. That was when Ms. Summers ... stopped him."  
  
There was a look of shock on Giles' face before the older man regained his composure.  
  
"She killed him?" he asked, sounding remarkably calm.  
  
"She did what was necessary," Burke replied. "Saved quite a few lives that way. But I'm afraid that she is not handling it well." He paused for a moment. "She has never killed before, has she?"  
  
"Not a human, no." Giles could not help thinking of Faith, whose accidental killing of a human being had driven her over the edge. "More than that, though, I fear what this might be doing to her in light of her bond to the Huntsman."  
  
Burke just nodded, having been told the gist of the Slayer-Huntsman lore by Giles and Riley. He did not believe most of it, not really, but he had seen some of the effects King's presence had had on Buffy.  
  
"She is in the back room," Burke told Giles. "We think she is in something of a shock right now. Her injuries have already healed, but ..."  
  
Giles was past him before he could finish, concern all over his face. For all intents and purposes Buffy was his daughter and he needed to be with her now, needed to do whatever he could to help her work through this. Doyle's vision had only added to that resolve.  
  
The back room of the small office building had been turned into an impromptu field hospital, several beds with wounded men and women lining the walls. Giles had no more than a passing glance to spare for any of them, his eyes immediately drawn to the far end of the room.  
  
Buffy was sitting on one of the field beds, her back against the wall, her knees drawn up to her chest. Someone had draped a blanket around her. Her green eyes were just staring off into space.  
  
Giles slowly sat down on the bed beside her, watching her for any kind of reaction to his presence. There was none, she just kept on staring. He put one of his hands on her shoulder, squeezing gently.  
  
"Buffy, can you hear me?"  
  
Slowly, extremely slowly, Buffy seemed to come out of her absent state to look at him. Her eyes seemed to have trouble focusing on him, as if they were too busy seeing memories over and over again. He felt her tremble where his hand rested on her skin.  
  
"Giles?" she asked softly, barely audible.  
  
"I'm here, Buffy. I know what happened."  
  
There was no trace of accusation in his voice, only warmth and understanding. The Council drilled Slayers and Watchers alike to see the world in black and white. Humans are good, demons are evil. The Slayer must kill all demons, but never harm a human. Even before meeting coming to Sunnydale, though, Giles had known that it was not always that easy. There were demons like Angel, or ex-demons now, and there were humans like the late Mayor Richard Wilkins.  
  
He never doubted for a second that Buffy would never have killed King if she had seen any other alternative. It would not keep her from tearing herself apart with guilt, though. He knew her well enough to know that.  
  
"He was killing people," Buffy whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "I ... I wanted him to stop, but at the same time ... he came to my aid when I got hurt and he was ... he was tearing that wolf woman apart and I wanted him to do it. I wanted to see her bleed and ..."  
  
"It was the bond, Buffy," he tried to soothe her. "That was not you."  
  
"How can you be so sure?" she asked him, a desperate look on her face. "It wasn't the bond that made me ... made me ..."  
  
"No, Buffy. That was you trying to save lives. Jackson King was not a demon, that is true. He was a young man overwhelmed by a power he could not control and that made him a tremendous danger to everyone he came into contact with. Including you, Buffy."  
  
"I killed him, Giles," she whispered, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "I just took his head in my hands and ..."  
  
He gathered her into his arms and Buffy collapsed against his chest, her tiny form rocking with sobs. God, how he wished he could have spared her this. If only he had been there, maybe he could have done it for her. Despite everything Buffy had gone through these last few years she was still barely more than a child, a child that had been forced to grow up much too fast. Above everything else she should not have to deal with the guilt that came with killing a fellow human being, no matter how necessary it might have been. If only he could have spared her this.  
  
If only. For Rupert Giles the English language held no sadder words.  
  
#  
  
Willow and Tara walked into the lobby of the Sunnydale General and the redhead felt more hopeful than she had in a long, long time. Yes, things were grim. Angel was hovering between life and death, Buffy had to deal with both Jackson King and those demonized super-soldiers, and they were probably overdue for the next apocalypse. Still, she felt better than she had in a long time.  
  
Part of it was probably the girl by her side, she realized. Meeting Tara was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. Yes, Willow was not as isolated and friendless as she had once been when Xander, Jesse, and her had been Sunnydale's resident loser squad, but still ... this was different. It was like ... like a reversal of roles. She still considered Buffy her best friend in the whole world, but somehow in that relationship Buffy had always come first. She was the Slayer, the chosen one, and Willow was the sidekick. Willow did not resent that, certainly not, but it was nice to experience a different kind of friendship once in a while.  
  
She was not quite sure where her friendship with Tara was going. She only knew that, with Tara, she did not feel like the sidekick. She felt like an equal, like she finally had someone who could understand all she was, all she wanted, and did not have the fate of the world to think of first. Maybe that was the reason she had yet to introduce Tara to the other Scoobies, she mused. Maybe she just wanted someone that was ... hers.  
  
"There is n-no guarantee it w-will w-work, Willow," Tara said, seeing the smile on her face.  
  
"I know, but ... but we have to believe it will, won't we? I mean if we don't believe it will work than it certainly won't and then there is really no point in attempting it in the first place, is there?"  
  
Tara smiled. Willow was just so adorable when she started babbling.  
  
The two witches had been looking for some kind of magical remedy to Angel's situation. Willow knew how his hovering between life and death was tearing Buffy to pieces. She also knew that, even if he were to make a recovery, he would probably be crippled for life. Medicine had done all it could for him, maybe now there was some way for magic to pick up the slack.  
  
Healing was not really something magic was good at, Willow knew, but there were some exceptions to the rule. The spell they had finally discovered was not so much a healing spell as a transferal of energies. It would channel power from the Earth into Angel's form, hopefully strengthening his body's own recuperative powers to the point where they could deal with the damage done to him.  
  
Like Tara had said, there was no guarantee that it would work. It might do no more than help him hold on a little longer than he otherwise would. On the other hand, though, it might just be enough to heal him. Willow knew that she would never forgive herself if she did not at least try.  
  
"We w-will give our b-best," Tara assured Willow, taking her hand. She often did that, Willow realized, and it felt ... strange. In a good way.  
  
They approached the front desk and Willow smiled at the nurse sitting there.  
  
"Hi, we would like to visit Angel O'Connor."  
  
The nurse turned to look at her with a rather shocked expression on her face.  
  
"He ... I'm sorry he is ..."  
  
Willow paled, stumbling back. No, it could not be possible. Angel could not be ... could he? Oh God, how was she going to tell this to Buffy? There was just no way she could ...  
  
"He is gone," the nurse said.  
  
Willow clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle the sob she felt building deep within her. Angel could not gone! He was supposed to be here forever. Well, not forever as in eternal life anymore, but he and Buffy should have been forever. That was how it was supposed to happen. He could not simply be gone. Not now, not when they had just found a way to help him.  
  
"He ... he died?" Tara asked the nurse, seeing the sorry state Willow was in.  
  
"No," the nurse replied, still looking shocked. Willow immediately latched onto that one word, new hope shining in her eyes.  
  
"He isn't? He isn't dead? But you just said ... oh my God, he isn't dead! I was thinking ... never mind what I was thinking. Is he okay? What did you mean by 'gone' if not ..."  
  
It took Tara some time to calm Willow down enough for the nurse to tell them exactly what had happened with Angel.  
  
#  
  
He was running. That was the only thing he was consciously aware of at the moment. He needed to run. There was no clear idea where to run to, but he knew exactly what he was running from.  
  
Pain. More pain than he had ever experienced in his long life. Even Hell had not been like this. A vampire did feel pain, yes, but it was always one step removed, less real. A dead body felt only one sensation with true, life-like intensity and that was the tasting of blood. Everything else was more distant. Dulled.  
  
When the Mhora's blood had brought him back to life it had been painful, but only for a heartbeat. Every cell in his body had screamed upon rejuvenation, a painful ecstasy of renewed life. After that it had been mostly the little pains he needed to learn to deal with. Paper cuts, banged knees, bruises, stubbed toes.  
  
Now, though, the pain was all-encompassing. There were some distant memories of floating, seeing his own body as if from a distance. White light had been everywhere and he thought he could hear a voice, telling him about a chance. Something that he had to do now or never.  
  
Then there was fire and agony. Something had been there, something so bright and searing that it had almost blinded him, yet he had reached for it. Some part of him had known that, unless he did so, it would be over. So he had put his hands into this living flame and it burned. God, it burned!  
  
He had felt his broken bones knitting back together, had felt his damaged spine mending in a heartbeat. The fire had swept right through him and forcibly removed everything that would hinder its possession of this body. It wanted a perfect vessel, someone who was able to move and run and fight. Not a cripple in a hospital bed somewhere. So it healed him and did not give a damn about how painful it was.  
  
Angel screamed as he ran through the night and even then he knew there was no escaping. The source of the pain was now entrenched deep inside of him and would not let go until the day he died.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	30. Miracles Always Have a Price

Part 29: Miracles Always Have a Price  
  
#  
  
Buffy wondered whether the ability to simply shut down on an emotional level and concentrate on the task at hand was a Slayer feature or something she had gotten from elsewhere. She also wondered whether it was healthy for her sanity. Right now said sanity was something she was not a hundred percent sure of anymore.  
  
Not now, she reminded herself. Not now. She had had her crying fest with Giles and that had to be it, there was no time for further breakdowns now. Jackson King was dead. She had killed him. Every time she closed her eyes she saw his face, that confused look he had given her when she had broken his neck. No, now was not the time. It had been necessary. He killed people, several people. She had had no choice.  
  
Something had happened to Angel. That was the thing she had to concentrate on for now. Everything else could wait. Team 666 would be licking their wounds for now. Burke and his men were doing the same. Jackson King ... he was not a problem anymore. She shook her head, trying to dispel the memories again. Angel. She had to concentrate on Angel now.  
  
She only knew what Willow had told her. Her best friend had gone to visit Angel in the hospital, only to learn that he was no longer there. For a moment Buffy had been almost paralyzed with fear, dreading that Jackson King might have made a stop at the hospital on his way to the SDO warehouse.  
  
Willow had set her straight, though. Angel had not been kidnapped. He had left under his own power. Considering that his body had been a mass of bruises and broken bones at that time, not to mention an injured spine and a concussion, did not exactly inspire confidence in this being a good thing. Angel was no longer a vampire who could heal from any wound within a day or less. He was human and human beings did not simply get up after being beaten within an inch of their life. They certainly did not throw around orderlies like so many puppets on their way out.  
  
Something had happened to him and, considering that Buffy could still feel the presence of the Huntsman in her blood despite King's death, she had a horrible suspicion that she knew exactly what that something was.  
  
Buffy was running on instinct at the moment. She had always been able to feel Angel's presence, an ability that had persisted even after he had turned human. It had nothing to do with Slayers and vampires, or so she liked to think. She could also feel the Huntsman, could see it like a fire in the dark of night, and where she had had trouble zeroing in on its location while it was manifested in King, she had no such troubles now.  
  
Her instincts led her away from the town and into the forest beyond. Night had fallen some hours ago and this far away from the lights of Sunnydale it was pitch black, even her enhanced night vision almost useless. She moved with catlike certainty, though, all her senses wide open and guiding her feet. To a mere human the dark forest would have been a hopeless obstacle course, a labyrinth impossible to navigate. For the Slayer, though, the trees gave way willingly and her path was easily found.  
  
Somewhere ahead of her there was a blazing fire that gave no light, but nevertheless drew her in like a moth to the flame. Buffy was helpless to resist it and, in this special case, she felt that she really did not want to resist.  
  
Then she heard his screams.  
  
"Angel," she yelled, her feet carrying her faster and faster toward the source of this anguish. Trees whipped past her left and right as she threw herself into the darkness as if it was water, certain that it would part before her.  
  
Buffy came to a clearing and, almost as if on cue, what little overcast they had had cleared from the sky. It was not a full moon tonight, not even close, but Buffy's eyes did not need much in the way of light to see. The pale shine from the sickle above was more than enough for her.  
  
Angel was on his knees in the grass, his body shaking with seizures. She could feel his pain radiating towards her, felt it tear along her own nerves like fire. The flimsy hospital gown that Angel had worn when escaping from what had almost been his death bed was gone, torn away by his flight through the forest. He was nude before her and Buffy had a sudden flashback to a night more than a year ago. Then, too, she had found him like this. Nude in the night, more animal than man.  
  
Even then, though, his sanity torn to pieces by centuries of torture in hell, he had recognized her. He had remembered her name and held on to her, grabbed her like a drowning man who had finally found solid ground.  
  
Slowly she began to approach him.  
  
#  
  
Even through all the pain he felt her coming. His body was still mending, fiery energy knitting the broken parts back together amidst an inferno of screaming nerve endings. Some detached part of his mind realized that this pain was good. It was healing him, bringing him back to the life he had almost lost. The chance he had almost missed.  
  
Buffy's presence was like a soothing breeze, caressing his burning flesh with hands of softest silk. He opened his eyes, consciously aware of his surroundings for the first time since he had dipped his hands into this consuming flame. A forest? Yes, he remembered. He had tried to flee, tried to run away from the pain. That which had taken him as its host was primitive, primal, a force of nature. It fled from the artificial lights, the hum of civilization, yearning to embrace the comforting darkness of the wild where it knew its prey was waiting.  
  
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the pain began to ebb, receding further with every step his other half took toward him. There was that tingling in his belly, that unmistakable sense that she was near. It was more than that now, though, much more than that. His blood called out to her, his heart was straining against his chest to drive him closer.  
  
Their eyes met, both pairs penetrating the near total darkness with ease. The world looked different now, Angel realized. A human would have been blind here, helpless. A vampire would have seen, but not the way he saw now. Especially not the way he now saw her.  
  
Buffy was glowing with an inner light that seemed to sing to him. Just like he had felt the fire burning within him he could now see the flames inside her, illuminating his beautiful mate like not even the sun could. Did she see him like this? Had she seen Jackson King like this?  
  
King had to be dead, he realized. The Huntsman was here now. He was the Huntsman. And, just like the Slayer, a new Huntsman was only called when the previous one perished. A part of his new being cried out in anger at this death, mourning the loss of the first host it had enjoyed in centuries. The largest part of him, though, could not help but feel a mixture of relief and satisfaction.  
  
Then all thoughts of King ceased. Buffy was just a step away from him now, her face a mask of conflicting emotions. Concern. Fear. Desire. Confusion. It was all there for the world to see, she still carried her heart in her hands.  
  
"Angel?" She always spoke his name like this, her voice softening and uncertain as if she constantly had to assure herself of his presence. He knew how he had hurt her by leaving. It would never happen again. Now and forever they belonged together. Soulmate and soulmate, Slayer and Huntsman.  
  
He should be afraid, should he not? He was the Huntsman now and the power that was humming in his veins had already turned one innocent boy into a raving lunatic who beat people to death. How was he supposed to control it any better?  
  
The answer came almost as quickly. He knew how. He had a century of experience doing this, controlling desires and urges that a foreign presence had infused into his being. The cursed blood that had made him Angelus was as different from the essence of the Huntsman as night was from day, yet the effects it had on his mind and sanity were the same.  
  
I can do this, Angel resolved. I can.  
  
The pain was almost gone as he rose, standing before his other half. He was breathing hard, both from exhaustion and her presence. He was aware of his nudity, but not embarrassed. His muscles moved and flexed with a strength he had almost learned to get along without, greater than it had been before. Even more than that, though, he had missed all the sounds and smells of the world around him. Especially the scent he could pick up from Buffy.  
  
She opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He could almost read her thoughts, her doubts and fears so obvious. She had to feel it, too, had to realize what he was now, what he had become. How could she not be afraid?  
  
He had to show her that there was nothing to afraid of.  
  
Slowly he reached out to touch her and Buffy did not flinch away from him. There had always been fire between them, a casual touch enough to ignite it, but this time it was different. A star seemed to roar to life as they touched skin to skin, his finger brushing over her arm. Both of them gasped, surprised by the intensity.  
  
More than their bodies touched, they could both feel it. More than ever before Buffy was aware of that burning energy within her that was the Slayer. Never had it felt more real, more alive. She had felt it stir when Jackson King had first approached her, roused from centuries of half-sleep by the return of its mate. She had felt it try and force her to do things she did not want when she and King had met in battle. Now, though, things had changed. Slayer and human found themselves in perfect accordance.  
  
For the first time in centuries the Slayer and the Huntsman touched, really touched. Their hosts did not hinder them, confusing human emotions did not stand between them, but rather cheered them on. Their hosts desired each other, wanted each other even without the burning intensity of the bond that now existed between them.  
  
Something was still wrong, though, something was still off. The Huntsman touched its other half, but something was missing. It was like part of her was not there. Jackson King had been confused by this, the Huntsman had been furious. Poisoned by those same unpredictable human emotions he now cherished the Huntsman had struck out against what King had perceived to be the source of this imbalance, the Slayer's human lover. Only that was not it.  
  
The Huntsman was not possessed of anything a human might have termed intelligence. It was a primal force of energy, just like the Slayer. It needed a human mind to function, a human intelligence to guide it. Now it was bonded to a human whose mind held the answers. The Huntsman became aware of the girl called Faith. A second Slayer. He saw the circumstances that had led to this, realized that its mate had been torn in half by the trauma of Buffy's death and resurrection. That was why their bond was off, why it was incomplete.  
  
This could not be allowed to continue.  
  
#  
  
Sunnydale General Hospital was still in a mild state of chaos. A couple of policemen had come around to investigate the incident involving one Angel O'Connor. Mr. O'Connor was, after all, the victim of a crime, a crime whose perpetrator had yet to be caught. The two officers took the statements of the baffled staff who kept insisting that Mr. O'Connor had not only walked out of here on his own two feet, but had knocked several nurses unconscious in the process.  
  
Then the emergency monitors screamed again. The nurse who had just been interviewed by one of the officers ran back to her station, quickly checking which patient was in danger.  
  
"It's Faith Capriss," she yelled at the station doctor. "She just flat lined!"  
  
In what was an almost step-by-step repeat of their actions earlier this evening the doctor and nurses ran into the room in question, doing their best to defend their patient from her impending death. One of the officers had come along upon hearing the name. He knew that this girl was still under suspicion of murder and there was a standing order to arrest and question her the moment she came out of her coma.  
  
Only now it looked like that would never happen. For unlike Mr. O'Connor this girl did not suddenly get up and walk out.  
  
Fifteen minutes later the doctor pronounced her dead.  
  
#  
  
Buffy and Angel were so preoccupied with each other that neither of them noticed at first. Somehow her clothes had disappeared and their bodies pressed against each other, looking to get as close as two separate beings could possibly get.  
  
The world around them was no longer important. There was nothing but the two of them, immersed in the soothing darkness of the night, their natural environment. Whatever forest animals might have posed a threat to any mere human made a wide berth around the clearing they were in, sensing that these were two predators one really did not want to disturb. Days and weeks of fear and uncertainty unloaded themselves as they touched and kissed, assuring themselves over and over again that this was real, that thy were both really alive and well.  
  
Then they felt it.  
  
Angel heard the Huntsman roar in triumph as something changed. Buffy heard the Slayer scream in pain and pleasure all at the same time as the open wound she had lived with for more than two years was suddenly, violently healed. They both staggered as the fire that burned between them suddenly intensified. Buffy stumbled as power rushed through her veins, a familiar voice inside her head, screaming in agony.  
  
Faith?  
  
Both of them fell to their knees as Slayer and Huntsman both roared out with joy, the rift between them finally healed. The combined power of their bond had retrieved its lost essence, ripped it out from the one who had no right to it, returned it to its rightful place. Now everything was made right.  
  
Neither of them understood the cold chill of pain and sorrow that suddenly came from their human hosts. Buffy and Angel both realized what had happened, could not help but realize it as they saw the missing half of the Slayer return to Buffy. They could both hear Faith scream, could feel as that which kept her alive when every other human being would have died was ripped away.  
  
They collapsed into the grass, tears trailing down their faces.  
  
"My God," Angel whispered. "Oh my God."  
  
"Faith," Buffy sobbed, curling into a ball on the soft grass as she realized that she had yet more blood on her hands.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	31. Mutually Exclusive Termination Orders

Part 30: Mutually Exclusive Termination Orders  
  
#  
  
Daniel Harold Stone, Lieutenant, United States Marine Corps, officially listed killed in action nearly twenty years ago, leaned against the wall of the motel room and tried to find a silver lining somewhere on the horizon. All he saw, though, were dark clouds.  
  
When he had first heard from his contacts about a possible revival of Project Inferno he had been worried. When Julia had reported back from her first scouting mission here in Sunnydale, confirming the rumors, he had been scared. Now he had seen things for himself, had seen what the government he had once sworn to serve and protect had done here in this deceptively quiet little town.  
  
Now he was terrified.  
  
It was not simply the presence of those two super-soldiers, the girl and the young man. Oh, they had been more than impressive, their speed and strength superior to any the members of the so-called Team 666 possessed. Daniel really hated that name, but they had never come up with a better one for themselves. It was fitting somehow.  
  
It was not even the way the two of them had torn into his people and come close to beating them that terrified him so much. This battle they had just finished had been fought under anything but ideal conditions, after all. At first the chaos and confusion had favored them, but that advantage had shifted when the two super-soldiers had arrived, the whole thing turning into a completely chaotic free-for-all. It clearly showed that, after twenty years, his team was in anything but top combat condition.  
  
It was none of these things, though, that terrified him. He was a soldier, he had fought in dozens, maybe hundreds of battles that were every bit as vicious and destructive as this one. He had seen people die right next to him, cut down by bullets that had missed him only by a hair's breath.  
  
What had truly terrified him was the way things had turned out. The wild and insane look in the young man's eyes as he turned on his own people, killing them where they stood. Daniel had watched him beat Julia nearly to a pulp, only to immediately turn on one of the SDO agents barely a minute later. The man had clearly been driven insane and, in the end, had found his end at the hands of the girl, who was clearly in shock about his actions as well as her own.  
  
To Daniel it was not a shock, not as such. He had seen things like that before. Closing his eyes, the memories came back, replaying behind his lids clear as day. It had been their first mission after the 'accident'. He snorted, wondering how they could have been so naive. They had been so young then, so very young.  
  
They moved into this small town, wondering what could possibly pose a threat to national security here. Then they saw their first demons and no further explanations were necessary. Thinking back, was it really all that hard to understand that they had believed whatever lies their superiors fed them? They had just been confronted with creatures that should not have existed outside the fairy tale books. Whatever explanation helped make sense of the world again was very much welcome.  
  
It was during one of their first demon-hunting missions that the 'accident' happened. They pursued a group of vampires through a maze of underground tunnels and ran right into a trap. Daniel did not remember much. A large cave lined with arcane symbols from top to bottom. The humming of generators. The biting stench of chemicals. They were all knocked out and, the next time they woke, they were different.  
  
Not all of them survived. Hanson died immediately, or so Daniel was told. He never saw the body. Chang survived just long enough to awaken, rip one of his nurses to pieces, and then bleed to death after he tore out his own eyes. Bergman did not last much longer. Daniel saw the video footage some days later. Saw him run screaming right into a solid concrete wall and disappear.  
  
They tore the wall down later and found his remains interspaced with the stonework.  
  
What he remembered most vividly, though, was the first mission after the rest of them had more or less recovered from their ordeal. They knew they had changed, knew they were no longer human. They believed the explanations, though, and also saw the wisdom of trying to make the best out of their new state of being. Uncle Sam could certainly make use of soldiers who had telekinetic powers, an acid touch, enhanced strength and speed, superior senses, you name it.  
  
The mission was relatively simple, really. Not even demon- or monster- related. General Elling did not want to endanger his new super-soldiers more than absolutely necessary on their first run. Intelligence had located a large drug traffic point, just south of the Mexican border. A sprawling hacienda that served as a port-of-call for drug smugglers from both sides of the frontier. They were told that the Mexican government had approved their attack. Maybe it actually had, who knew? None of them really cared. They only thing of interest for them was the fact that a lot of armed muscle would be guarding this place and, after being cooped up in military hospitals for quite some time, all of them were itching for some action.  
  
It was so easy, so ridiculously easy. The seven of them walked right through nearly a hundred armed men as if they were nothing, slaughtering them left and right. Even to this day Daniel had little pity to spare for them. Drug dealers deserved no mercy as far as he was concerned. Still, no human being deserved to be slaughtered like that, no matter their crimes.  
  
The blowout came right at the end, though. Anderson, Daniel's second-in- command and most trusted teammate, went ballistic on them. He was the first to reach the main building of the hacienda, taking on the remaining guards with nothing but a handgun. He slaughtered his way right through them and reached the office of the local boss well ahead of the rest of them.  
  
Daniel arrived there a minute later and what he saw chilled him to the bone. Anderson had taken a seat behind the drug boss' desk, cheerfully sipping from a bottle of champagne or such. Their primary target, a man in his fifties with graying hair and a curling mustache, stood in the center of the room, Anderson's gun in hand and pointed at his own temple.  
  
Daniel was helpless to do anything but watch as Anderson told the man to smile and then blow his own brains out, his eyes flashing a crimson red as he did. Daniel could almost see the tendrils of energy that snaked out of Anderson's head and coiled into the drug boss' mind, exterminating his free will and forcing his hand. The gunshot was what shook him out of his stupor.  
  
Anderson's face was devoid of all humanity, all compassion. Daniel looked at his friend and saw nothing but evil there, nothing but a lust for slaughter and mayhem that appalled him down to his very soul. Anderson laughed, jokingly telling Daniel that they could have phoned this one in, it was so easy. With the powers they had been given who could possibly stop them?  
  
The others arrived just in time to see Daniel take out his own sidearm and shoot Anderson through the head. He did not quite remember how he managed to explain it to them, but it was on that day that he realized that they had been turned into monsters. Creatures not fit to walk among humans.  
  
A short time later they found out that it had been done deliberately and their fury was every bit as monstrous as they themselves had become.  
  
Today he had seen history to repeat itself. One monster killing another monster. He wondered whether this girl now understood what had been done to her, what they had forced her to become. He wondered whether she would take a route similar to the one he and his teammates had taken twenty years ago.  
  
No, she would not, he resolved. They would not allow things to progress any further this time.  
  
The others all looked at him, their wounds healing at an accelerated rate. Soon they would be fit for combat again. Their first action in twenty years had bloodied them, but old instincts were reawakened again. At one time they had been the best of the best and they would be again. Would have to be if they wanted to pull this off.  
  
"We are agreed then?" Daniel asked, looking at each of his teammates in turn. One by one they all nodded, grim looks on their faces. No doubt all of them were remembering that day in Mexico.  
  
"Very well," Daniel said it out loud. "We will proceed."  
  
History would not be allowed to repeat itself this time. Even if everyone connected with this new Project Inferno would have to die at their hands.  
  
#  
  
"This is a disaster," CIA associate director James Mason sighed, rubbing his graying temples. He had not expected Special Domestic Operations to go down without casualties, not really. The nature of the threat they faced practically guaranteed that some of his people would not come home again. What he had not expected was that his agents would die at the hands of rogue covert operatives from a buried CIA experiment that went down twenty years ago.  
  
Thomas Burke just watched as his superior tried to digest the news. Four men dead, seven more wounded, out of a total of eighteen agents assigned to this operation. Disaster was about the right word for this.  
  
"We have relocated to the secondary staging area," Burke continued his report when Mason did not say anything more for a while. "All of the wounded are stable and should make full recoveries."  
  
"I assume you made sure that the warehouse base was completely destroyed?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Two of my agents planted explosive charges before the fire fighters arrived. There is nothing left for anyone to find." Not even the bodies of the dead, he added silently.  
  
"Good, good." Mason sounded very tired. "What about the collected data?"  
  
"Everything we gathered from our operations and from Mr. Giles is backed up on a server at Langley. No losses there."  
  
Mason nodded again. As silver linings went those were pretty thin ones, but anything was better than nothing.  
  
"I did some more digging," Mason then told Burke, "after Ms. Summers delivered that file to you. I would still like to know how that girl managed to access files here in the Langley database that even I did not have access to until a few days ago, but I'm afraid that is secondary for now."  
  
He looked down to study a folder in front of him.  
  
"I fear that everything she told us is true. General Elling did run a project to create super-soldiers in Sunnydale. What's more, the information Ms. Summers found was just the tip of the iceberg. It appears that, before his untimely demise, the good general requisitioned no less than forty of our best covert operatives for this project." Mason closed his eyes, sighing deeply. "All of them were listed killed in action."  
  
"God have mercy," Burke whispered under his breath. "There is more of these ... things out there?"  
  
"Let us hope not too many more. Considering the ... casualty rate of that first group that went through Project Inferno we might be in luck there. Relatively speaking, of course."  
  
"Very relatively, I would say."  
  
"What is more disturbing than that, though, is the fact that General Elling apparently had some help in his project. Our experts are still trying to figure out exactly what he did to those soldiers in his experiments. Most of the details were never recorded, I fear, or maybe destroyed afterwards. What we do know, though, is that the process was a mixture of advanced genetics and ... magic."  
  
"Magic?" Despite everything he had seen since coming to Sunnydale Burke was still very much reluctant to acknowledge the existence of anything that might fall under the header of magic. Vampires and other supernatural creatures might be explained as freaks of nature, different species, whatever. Magic, though, ... that was a lot harder to believe in.  
  
"Yes, magic. Don't look at me like that, Thomas, I don't like it any more than you do."  
  
"How did General Elling get his hands on magic?"  
  
"Apparently he had some help in that. What little notes we found buried in our archives say that the magical parts of the experiment were carried out with the help of one Richard Wilkins II., Mayor of Sunnydale."  
  
"Richard Wilkins? The same man who transformed himself into some kind of snake demon less than a year ago?"  
  
"His father, or so say the files at least. Considering what we found in Wilkins' private records, though, you are quite correct. Apparently Elling and Wilkins made some kind of deal. Before you ask, no, we have no idea what Wilkins expected to receive in return. Since Elling was killed only a short time later I doubt he ever got it. Even if he did, he's dead now as well, so it does not matter any longer."  
  
Burke nodded. Mr. Giles had told them a little more about Richard Wilkins than they had gathered from his confiscated files. Burke was not the kind of man to classify anyone or anything as pure evil, but this man had apparently come quite close to that.  
  
"If Wilkins was involved," Mason continued, mirroring Burke's thoughts, "that makes it even more important to clean up this mess and fast."  
  
Burke did not have to ask what Mason meant by 'clean up'. He had seen the creatures Elling's experiment had brought into being. They might have been human once, American soldiers betrayed by their own superiors, but they were monsters now. Whatever doubts he might have had about that were erased after this battle.  
  
It was SDO's mission to protect the public from the monsters. By any means necessary.  
  
"I have already mobilized reinforcements," Mason told him. "They will arrive in Sunnydale within the next three days. After they do you are hereby authorized to do whatever it takes to neutralize the threat of this 'Team 666'. For good. Any questions, Thomas?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"Good. Keep me informed."  
  
Mason's face vanished from the screen and Burke leaned back in his chair. Neutralize the threat, he said. Now that sounded really easy. Thinking back to the battle that had decimated his command, he was not sure how they were supposed to pull this off.  
  
One thing he was certain of, though. If they wanted to have any kind of realistic chance to do this they needed Ms. Summers. She was the only one who had been able to go toe to toe with these monsters. Well, her and that insane killer Jackson King. There was one person whose death he did not regret. Not in the least.  
  
The question was whether Ms. Summers would be up to another battle this soon. Physically he did not doubt that she was. By now she was probably fully healed and able to kick the combined butts of his entire command. It was her state of mind he was uncertain of.  
  
It had been a long time since his own first kill. He remembered very well how hard it had been, how painful. It got easier with time, as all things did, and that was not necessarily a good thing. Despite her power and skill Ms. Summers was still so young.  
  
He shook his head. This was no time to get emotional about things. Four of his men were dead. Monsters were running loose in the streets of this town. Either Ms. Summers pulled herself together or not, he had no influence on that. He would have to deal with the situation however it might present itself.  
  
"Briefing in ten minutes," he told the others. "We got new orders."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	32. The Morning After

Part 31: The Morning After  
  
#  
  
Giles put the phone down, a sad and tired look in his face. Sighing deeply he turned to look at his two guests, who were sitting on opposite sides of his sofa. From their body language it was all too clear that they would like nothing better than to snuggle against each other, yet were terrified to do so.  
  
Which was not really that hard to understand, was it?  
  
"The hospital just confirmed it," Giles told them, sitting down. "Faith is dead."  
  
Buffy and Angel both closed their eyes. They had known, known beyond the shadow of a doubt, yet somehow they had managed to keep some ember of hope alive that they might be mistaken. That they had somehow misinterpreted the sensations they had experienced when the bond between them closed. An ember that was now extinguished for good.  
  
"I can only theorize on what happened," Giles went on, hoping to find some way to console the guilt these two had to be feeling now. "From what you told me I would say that ... well, that the union between Slayer and Huntsman unleashed enough power to ... heal the fractured essence of the Slayer. I ... I imagine that, if the Huntsman had been with Faith at that time, it would be you, Buffy, who ... well ..."  
  
He trailed off, not sure that he was helping the situation any. Faith was gone and no doubt Buffy blamed herself for that. God knew she blamed herself enough for merely putting Faith in the hospital to begin with. Though it shamed him Giles was almost relieved by the way things had turned out. He had dreaded what would happen should Faith ever awaken from her coma. He had not wanted her to die, though. Certainly not that.  
  
Giles took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes.  
  
"Angel, why don't you tell us exactly what you remember about ... well, whatever you might want to call it. Your becoming the Huntsman."  
  
Angel nodded.  
  
"I guess it all started back in Los Angeles. After ... after I became human I visited the Oracles. The Mhora demon who had attacked me said that ... that Buffy would die unless I was there to fight at her side. The Oracles confirmed this."  
  
Buffy looked at him in shock. He had never told her about that before.  
  
"Angel ...," she began.  
  
"I asked them for some way to enable me to still fight beside Buffy. I ... I even asked them to turn me back into a vampire."  
  
"What?" Buffy was on her feet, staring at him in complete disbelief. "You wanted to give it all away just when we had a chance to be together?"  
  
"I wanted to save your life," Angel said, his voice deceptively calm. His hands were shaking, though, the fire burning in his blood screaming at him to grab her right here, right now, and consummate their bond all over again. It took all the willpower he had just to sit still while she stood before him like this, almost glowing in her agitation and power.  
  
"Besides," he continued, "it does not matter, they would not acquiesce to any of my pleas. What they did say, though, was that I would have a chance. They did not specify anything, just that I would have a chance. Doyle and I researched a lot on this, but came up empty."  
  
Buffy sat down again, her look clearly telling him that the topic of his holding out on her was not over with, not by half. Angel gave her a tender look, but did not dare go closer to take her hand or touch her in other ways.  
  
"When I was in the hospital I ... I drifted. I think at one point I actually saw my own body beneath me and, well, I expected that this might be it. Then I saw the Oracles again. No, actually I did not see them. I only heard their voices, telling me that my chance was here now. That I had to take it now or it would all be over."  
  
Giles nodded, understanding. "That was when King died."  
  
Buffy flinched a little with his words. In all her years as the Slayer she had never killed a human being, but within less than 24 hours two people had died at her hands. Jackson King and Faith. She did not know how to handle this. How did one get over killing another human being? She wrapped her arms around her knees and tried to shut out the emotions as best as she could. She was doing that a lot lately. Maybe practice made perfect.  
  
"I am not exactly sure what happened," Angel went on. He was well aware of Buffy's dark mood, but saw no way how to help her. He did not feel particularly crushed about King's demise, but Faith had died because the two of them had been together. Why was it that every single time they were together someone had to pay the price for it? First Jenny Calendar, now Faith.  
  
"I only remember seeing ... flames. A gust of fire that seemed to be passing me by. I knew ... somehow I knew that if I simply let it pass ... that would be it. I would die and ... and Buffy would be ... So I grabbed it. I thrust my hand into the flames and ... well, the next thing I was aware of I was back in the hospital room, my body healing, yet in terrible pain. I fled from there, somehow hoping to run from the pain."  
  
He looked up at Giles. "I didn't hurt anyone there, did I?"  
  
"A few bumps and bruises," Giles assured him. "Nothing more."  
  
"Thank God." He took a moment, relief washing over him. At least in that single instance he had not harmed anyone.  
  
Giles tried to assimilate everything he had learned this long, long night. Angel was now the Huntsman. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? He really could not say. On the one hand he should be glad that this kind of power was now in the hands of someone as responsible as Angel. On the other hand he had experienced first-hand how dangerous Angel could be if he lost control.  
  
He looked at Buffy and wondered if she was any less dangerous now. The Slayer was whole again, not divided between two people. That alone would not have been any cause for worry, seeing as Buffy had been the one and only Slayer once before. That had been at a time, though, when the Huntsman had still been imprisoned, its essence locked away. Now it was free and only the Slayer's being cut in half had protected her from whatever madness seemed to inevitably arise from the bond these two warriors shared.  
  
Or so the theory went anyway. Giles would be the first to admit, that, with what little information they had, it was impossible to predict what would happen. The precedents looked pretty bleak, though. They knew of only three previous Huntsmen. Charles Augustine and Alexander Hamish had both turned into vicious killers and Jackson King seemed to have been no better. Maybe the latter's behavior had been partially caused by Buffy's resistance to the bond, the splintering of the Slayer, but that was nothing but speculation.  
  
The ugly fact was that, in all known previous unions of Slayer and Huntsman, the results had been disastrous. Judging by the looks on their faces, the two current incarnations of these warrior spirits were only too well aware of that.  
  
Then there was another matter to consider.  
  
"We should discuss what to tell the Council," Giles said. "They have been requesting status reports about the Huntsman and ... well, if they hear nothing from us, they are bound to turn up to investigate by themselves."  
  
"Don't you think we have more immediate problems?" Buffy asked, her voice harsher than she intended. She was tired, so incredibly tired.  
  
"Yes, we do," Giles answered, "but I do not know what to do about them. For the moment we should concentrate on the things we actually have control over, don't you think?"  
  
Buffy sank back into the cushions, trying to come up with an answer. Burke's SDO troops and Team 666 were no doubt headed for another collision fairly soon, but she had a very hard time regarding this as a priority right now. Nor was she interested in whatever the Council might want or do. The only thing that was really on her mind at the moment was the man sitting about two feet away from her.  
  
There had been times in the past when she had been afraid of him. Never before had she been afraid of herself, though. Of what she might do just because he was near.  
  
"The only way for us to go on," Angel finally said, "is for both of us to keep a tight reign on ourselves. We have to assume that we can handle this, that we can control this. Otherwise we might as well kill ourselves right now."  
  
His blunt words caused Buffy to flinch all over again, but then she nodded. It was the only way, really. She had managed to keep control of herself before, though barely. Angel had a century of experience containing the instincts and urges of a bloodthirsty demon. It really was the only way to proceed.  
  
"I agree," Giles said. "Both of you have held this kind of power before, independent of the bond between Slayer and Huntsman. I don't have to tell you, I hope, how careful you have to be. Especially when you find yourself in a combat situation again."  
  
"We probably should involve the Council in this," Angel added. "We need every bit of information we can get about the Huntsman and the bond with the Slayer."  
  
"I don't think this is a good idea," Buffy intervened. "What if they ... I mean, last time the Huntsman was free the Council buried it again because they could not control it."  
  
She did not need to add that these actions had resulted in the death of the Huntsman's host and incurable insanity of the Slayer of that time. They had all memorized those parts by now.  
  
"I know, but that was centuries ago. The present day Council freed the Huntsman because they believed they would need it."  
  
"He is right, Buffy. The Council might have made a grave mistake freeing the Huntsman before they knew everything about it, but they won't throw it all away now, especially if we can show them that we have a genuine chance of controlling its power."  
  
Angel scooted over to Buffy and, carefully, took her hand in his. Almost immediately both of them tensed, feeling the power screaming through their veins. It was a glorious feeling, a hundred times better than any adrenalin rush, and both of them would have liked nothing more than to jump up immediately and go hunting. That or head straight towards the nearest bedroom.  
  
Neither of them moved, clamping down on their urges with iron wills, and Angel managed a slight smile.  
  
"We can do this, Buffy," he assured her. "The Oracles saw this as my only chance to keep fighting by your side. They would not have pointed me in this direction if their wasn't a chance for us to make it work."  
  
"You are taking a lot on faith here," Buffy whispered, unable to let go of Angel's hand. How could he be so trusting of all this? Especially after what had happened. King. Faith. The battle.  
  
"I have to," he simply said. "There is no alternative."  
  
Buffy finally nodded, squeezing his hand a little tighter. There was no alternative. This was their chance, maybe their only chance, to keep on fighting and still be together. Vampire and Slayer had not worked. Human and Slayer would probably not have worked, either. Huntsman and Slayer? It remained to be seen.  
  
"Okay," she said. "Giles, you will call the Council?"  
  
Her Watcher nodded. "I will explain the situation to them. Let us hope they will be reasonable."  
  
"That would be a change," Buffy snorted. Then her mood darkened again as she turned her thoughts towards what she had to do now. Something she had to get over with before she could possibly concentrate on anything else.  
  
"Angel, we should ... I mean ... I think I need to ..."  
  
He just nodded, rising from the couch and pulling her up with him.  
  
"Let's go see Faith."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	33. The Harsh Light of Good

Part 32: The Harsh Light of Good  
  
#  
  
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall want for nothing."  
  
The priest's voice droned on, but Buffy was not paying any attention to it. Some detached part of her tried to figure out how often she had heard this particular requiem before. A dozen times? A hundred times? She had been to a lot of funerals. Mostly because she wanted to check out whether or not the deceased might rise as a vampire, but there had been a fair share of more personal ones, too.  
  
Jesse. Ford. Jenny. Kendra. Larry. So many others.  
  
And now Faith. In some way this struck her as even more wrong than anything else. Faith was the Slayer, chosen after Kendra died. It was not right that Buffy should still be alive after the two who had been chosen after her died. It was not right that the bond between her and Angel had come with the price tag of Faith's life. Buffy knew, just knew, that if Faith had woken up they would have managed to work things out somehow. Her sister Slayer would have had a chance to make it better, to make up for the things she had done.  
  
Only now she never would. She was dead because the Slayer and the Huntsman needed to be together, undivided and whole. Buffy balled her fists and a tear ran down her cheek. Why did this have to happen? Why was this world fucking with her at every possible turn?  
  
Angel's arm was around her shoulder and pulled her tighter against him as he felt her shake with suppressed sobs. His eyes were fixed on Faith's coffin, now slowly being lowered into the ground. Faith had tried to kill them all, had allied herself with evil, yet Angel could not find any solace in that thought. No one deserved to die like that, the life ripped out of her in her sleep by an indifferent metaphysical force. A force that had chosen her, not the other way around. Faith had never had a choice in that matter.  
  
The Oracles had a lot to answer for. They should have warned him that something like this would happen if he took this shiny, destined, all- important chance they had so graciously offered him.  
  
Only a few days had passed since that terrible night and things had remained quiet so far. Giles was in constant contact with Burke and his people, but had learned nothing beyond the fact that they were tending to their wounded and waiting for reinforcements. Team 666 was nowhere to be seen, but none of them believed they had left town. Giles, along with Willow and Xander, was also still in full research-mode, trying to find as many details about the Slayer, the Huntsman, and the bond between them as he could.  
  
As for Buffy and Angel, they were more than busy enough trying to figure things out between them. Two people had died to bring them to this point, two people who had been dragged into this without their consent, chosen by forces that placed little value on individual lives.  
  
Neither of them could help wondering whether it was all worth it.  
  
They had spent the last days in almost constant contact, mostly because they were afraid what might happen if they were separated. If the lore they had could be trusted, the nature of their bond would not react well to any sort of distance between them. Neither of them wanted to risk losing control, not when they both felt stronger and more powerful than they had ever before.  
  
Buffy looked up at her friends. Xander and Anya had come to the funeral, as well as Giles, Joyce, and Willow. The redhead had brought another girl along, a shy blonde none of them had ever met before, introduced to them as Tara. At any other time Buffy might have been wondering why Willow had not introduced them before, as the two were obviously quite familiar with each other, but she had other things on her mind right now.  
  
The funeral seemed to go on forever and Buffy was constantly torn between simply running away and surrendering to the tears. Neither seemed like a particularly good idea, so she just did nothing. Angel's arm around her shoulders steadied her, the hum of his presence so close somehow managing to drown out the world around them, and they stood motionless until the coffin had disappeared from view and the priest closed his book.  
  
Slowly the small crowd began to disperse. Faith had not had many friends here in Sunnydale. Buffy could see a few young men she did not know, a moment later scolding herself for automatically assuming where Faith would have known them from. The big surprise had been Wesley, whom no one had thought of since he had disappeared after graduation. Apparently the former watcher had encountered Cordelia in Los Angeles and she had let him know what had happened. Cordy herself was not here. Apparently she had landed a role in a soap opera since Angel had for all intents and purposes shut down Angel Investigations and was quite content with staying away from Sunnydale.  
  
Someone was approaching them and Buffy looked up to see Riley and Burke, both of them dressed in black suits. She had not expected either of them to turn up here and, quite frankly, was not looking forward to speaking to them. Not after what had happened at the warehouse. What they had seen her do.  
  
"My condolences, Ms. Summers," Burke said. He probably had no idea who Faith had been, Buffy realized, nor how she had come to be killed. Well, none of them saw the necessity of telling him about it. After learning the details of Project Inferno their trust of Burke and especially his superiors was greatly diminished.  
  
They would probably have to tell them something, though, because Riley did a neck-wrenching double-take as he saw Angel standing beside Buffy, whole and healthy. The commando himself was still visibly bruised from the second beating he had taken at King's hands.  
  
"Angel," Riley said, astonished. "How the hell ...?"  
  
"Long story," he answered. "This is not the place to tell it."  
  
He glanced at the tombstone the workers were putting up now. The Council had paid for the funeral and the tombstone, as Faith's sole living relative, her mother, had not reacted to any of the messages they had sent to her. Angel was a bit surprised that the Council had been so generous regarding a renegade Slayer, even as he wondered what kind of parent would not be there for the funeral of their child. This world was a very strange place sometimes.  
  
Burke, indifferent toward Riley's confusion at the moment, continued to look at Buffy.  
  
"Ms. Summers, I realize that this is a bad time, but I hope that you and Mr. Giles will soon be able to join us for ...," he trailed of, now looking at Angel as well, clearly considering how much to say in front of this stranger.  
  
Buffy, too tired to think of things like nondisclosure agreements and secrecy, simply motioned for him to go on. "You can speak freely in front of Angel, Mr. Burke. He knows all about what goes bump in the night here on the Hellmouth." Not that she would ever tell Burke or any of his men that Angel had once been one of these bumpy things.  
  
Burke gave Angel a very suspicious glance, but finally continued. "We have received reinforcements, Ms. Summers, and new orders. The problem of Team 666 must be dealt with as soon as possible."  
  
Buffy looked up sharply, not liking his tone. "And what exactly do you mean by 'dealt with'?"  
  
"I am talking about eliminating a threat to national security."  
  
"You are talking about human beings, Burke! Human beings who were abused beyond anything I ..."  
  
"Human beings who killed four of my men."  
  
Buffy continued glaring at him, but was at a loss for words. What was she supposed to say to that? That two of the four casualties had been at Jackson King's hands? Well, that certainly made it all better, did it not? Four murders were an atrocity, but two were okay? It did not work that way and Buffy knew it. Team 666, no matter what they had gone through, were killers.  
  
Then again she had the blood of two human beings on her own hands, did she not? What did that make her?  
  
Angel, clearly seeing Buffy's distress, turned to glare at Burke. "This is not a good time."  
  
For a moment the senior agent seemed about to protest, but then sighed and moved a hand through his graying hair. He, too, was worn and tired from everything that had happened. That was not an excuse to begin a shouting match at someone's funeral, though.  
  
"I apologize," he said. "We need to meet soon, though. I doubt the current calm will last that much longer."  
  
Angel and Buffy both nodded. On that, if nothing else, they could agree.  
  
Burke turned and walked away. Riley hesitated for a moment, clearly still astonished about Angel's miraculous recovery. Buffy mouthed a silent 'later' to him. This was definitely not the time to tell Riley that Angel was now the host for the same force that had driven Jackson King over the edge and turned him into a killer. Would there ever be a good time for it? She rather doubted it. They needed a good story here. A lie. Yet more lies.  
  
People began trickling out of the cemetery. Giles and Wesley were talking about something as they walked. Anya began tugging Xander away, probably wanting to do something that Buffy did not even want to hear about. The few strangers who had been present were already gone. Which only left Willow and her blonde friend, who were approaching them even now.  
  
Buffy and her best friend hugged without words. Willow had never been particularly fond of Faith, neither before nor after her turn to the dark side, but she was too good a person to wish death to anyone. Besides, she knew exactly how Faith had come to die and how much Buffy would hurt over it.  
  
"You holding up?" she asked softly as they separated.  
  
Buffy nodded. "More or less. Who is your friend, Wills?"  
  
Willow half-turned and motioned for the blonde to come closer.  
  
"Buffy, Angel, this is Tara. Tara McClay. We met in that Wicca group I went to a few times on campus. She is a real witch, though, not just one of those phonies. She helped me with my little magical break-in into the pentagon computers. We also cooked up a healing spell for Angel, but ... well, I guess that's kinda superfluous now, isn't it?"  
  
Shocked for a moment at this rapid-fire revelation, Buffy was at a loss for words. Angel was also quite surprised, but quickly remembered his manners and held his hand out to the blonde girl.  
  
"Pleased to meet you, Tara."  
  
Tara smiled shyly and took his hand. The moment she did, though, she gasped and almost stumbled.  
  
"Tara?" Willow was by her side immediately. "Tara, what's wrong?"  
  
Angel quickly let go of her hand, fearing that he had injured her somehow. As the Huntsman he was even stronger than he had been at a vampire and he had had little or no time to get used to that yet. He probably had no trouble squashing a normal human's hand without even trying.  
  
Tara did not seem injured, though. She was looking at him, no, at him and Buffy, with wide eyes.  
  
#  
  
Tara had always been good at reading auras. It had served her well in life, for the most at least. She was usually able to tell when someone was planning to deceive her or told a lie. It also allowed her glimpses into a person's soul, especially when physical contact was added to the equation. While she was not truly able to divine someone's future from something as simple as a palm reading, she did occasionally get glimpses and images.  
  
When she touched the man called Angel the sensation was overwhelming. Willow had told her about him, said that he had once been a vampire. Therefore the images of blood and violence that hung over part of his being like a dark cloud came as no surprise. What did surprise her, though, was the blinding glare that surrounded him almost like a halo.  
  
Looking at someone's aura was like looking at one of these 3D images. Sometimes you needed minutes, even hours, until the picture appeared from the seemingly random mess of gray dots, but once you saw it you could no longer not see it.  
  
Tara looked at Angel, looked at Buffy who was standing by his side, and the light nestled deep inside both of them was so bright that it threatened to burn her eyes from her sockets, yet she could not turn away from it. She had never seen anything like this before.  
  
She saw even more than that, though. The light was not warm and comforting, no. It was harsh and violent, the glare of an explosion rather than the soothing glow of a candle. Tara had grown up the daughter of a true witch and, as a result, spent many long days studying the forces that made up that which most people called magic. And magic, like so many other things, was useful only when used with moderation.  
  
What she was looking at now was not moderate, not even in the least. She had often feared the one extreme of magic, the dark side, had seen people with nothing but good intentions fall into it and never come out again. Never before, though, had she really imagined that the other extreme was something to be feared as well.  
  
The light that made up such large parts of these two people was white magic, maybe the ultimate in white magic. Absolute good, the forces of light in the purest possible form. To someone less familiar with the principles of magic this might not have sounded like something to be feared, but Tara was not one of those.  
  
This was the kind of good that rained fire and brimstone on cities full of sinners. This was the kind of good that flooded an entire world because all those living on it were found wanting. This was the kind of good that tolerated not even the slightest taint of darkness and shadow, the kind that judged by a standard of purity and goodness that no one could possibly measure up to.  
  
Tara looked at these two people Willow considered good friends and found herself filled with the urge to fall to her knees and pray for forgiveness.  
  
"Goddess," she whispered, her voice filled with awe and fear.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	34. Field Test, Reinforcements, and Observat...

Part 33: Field Tests, Reinforcements, and Observations  
  
#  
  
"So this is the situation as it presents itself," Burke concluded the first part of the briefing. His eyes swept across the nearly three dozen men and women sitting in front of him. Many of them were still looking somewhat skeptical, only having been told about the actual reality of the supernatural until a few hours ago. Burke knew from experience that the only thing that would actually disperse that skepticism was a first-hand personal encounter with the unearthly. That was something they would all get much sooner than any sane man would care to.  
  
He pressed a button on the laptop and a new slide appeared on the wall. Five faces were shown.  
  
"These are the only photographs we have of the targets," Burke went on, "and they were taken nearly twenty years ago. Keep that in mind! Final sanction has been authorized and we will move the moment we learn their location. The plan is for us to take them out from as great a distance as possible. Believe me, you do not want to get in close and personal with these ... things."  
  
The few veterans sitting among the new agents nodded without hesitation. Many of them still carried the scars of that first encounter. Many of their fellow agents were still down with injuries. A few would probably never get up again.  
  
"Sir," one of the new agents raised his hand. A guy called Miller, if Burke remembered correctly.  
  
"Yes, son, what is it?"  
  
"Sir, the briefing documents we received mentioned one Buffy Summers, the Slayer. Will she be fighting with us?"  
  
Many of the new agents were curious about Ms. Summers, that much was obvious from the looks they gave him. He could hardly blame them. If he had heard about a young girl with super strength that had been hired to give the country's best special operatives lessons in demon fighting he would want to know more about her, too.  
  
"Ms. Summers is currently ... not part of our operations. That situation may yet change before we actually make our move, but for the moment we have to plan for worst case. Meaning that she will not be here and it will be up to us mere humans."  
  
Some chuckles went around the briefing room, but most of the faces Burke could see held grim looks of determination. Most people did not react well to the news that humans were not the top of the food chain on this world. Humanity in general did not react well to beings that preyed on it, as most large animal predators on Earth had found out by becoming nearly extinct. It was hard to retain the self-image of dominant species of the world when faced with vampires and other demons, even more so when the only thing capable of bailing one out was a young girl with powers every bit as supernatural as the creatures she was fighting.  
  
They were all humans here, Burke mused. Not magically enhanced, not possessed by some kind of warrior spirit, not changed by a black ops experiment. Just humans. It was time to prove, to themselves if no one else, that that was still more than enough to handle any given job.  
  
"We are confident that Team 666 is still here in Sunnydale," Burke concluded. "We have scouts out looking for them. Be ready to move at a moment's notice and be ready for the fight of your life! That's all!"  
  
The men and women quickly rose and dispersed, either returning to the cover identities they had assumed here in town or the work-out area they had set up in another part of the small office building.  
  
Burke grumbled as he picked up his papers. One face had been conspicuously absent from this briefing, one he had gotten used to seeing at his side. Riley had quickly become his second-in-command here in Sunnydale due to his stellar performance, not to mention being the one who had recruited the Slayer. Burke had not put Riley on one of the scouting details, so where was he? His absence disturbed Burke.  
  
He just hoped Riley was not out there doing something stupid.  
  
#  
  
No one was really sure that this was a good idea, least of all Buffy and Angel themselves. Barely a week had passed since they had both changed and their emotions were still in turmoil. They both thanked all the gods in heaven that the last few days had been quiet, neither Team 666 nor any assorted demon or monster disturbing the peace. It had left them time to get used to their new connection, as well as their increased powers.  
  
Enough time, though? There was really but one way to tell.  
  
"Ready?" Buffy asked, her body almost humming with anticipation. Ever since the bond between them had closed she was at all times filled with tension, a burning need to go out and do something. Hunt something. Kill something. Slaying vampires had always been a great stress-reliever for her, but never before had she felt the need this strong.  
  
"Ready," Angel answered. For him this need, this anticipation was nothing new. Oh, the need was directed at something different now, but it was not too unlike a vampire's hunger for blood and the thrill of the chase. Even as a vampire with a soul he had felt it at all times, the yearning to sink his fangs into human flesh and drink deeply. He had denied that need, then redirected it to hunt down his own kind. Now there was no need for denial or redirection.  
  
Only restraint, they both reminded themselves. They needed to know, needed to be certain, that they could restrain this need, this burning intensity they both felt. It had been an issue even before Willow's friend Tara had told them what she saw in their auras. Now it was all the more important.  
  
To everyone's surprise Giles had brought Wesley along when they had gathered to hear Tara's explanation for her near faint in the cemetery. The former Watcher was apparently operating as a freelance demon hunter now (or rogue demon hunter, as he called himself) after being fired from the Council. While in Los Angeles he had come into possession of some documents he needed help translating, which was one of the reasons he had stayed in Sunnydale for the time being.  
  
Buffy was surprised how little enmity she felt regarding her former Watcher. Wesley had been a wimp and a coward, yes, but he seemed changed now. Thinking back, he might have changed as early as the night of her Graduation, when he had gone against the wishes of the Council and continued aiding her, however ineffectually. Wesley had not told anyone what exactly had happened between him and the Council after that, but there was a shimmer of self-confidence in him now.  
  
Forcing her mind back on track, Buffy remembered what Giles and Wesley had said about Tara's revelation.  
  
"Absolute good," Giles had muttered. "Yes, I can see how that might be dangerous."  
  
"It would explain a great deal about the former Huntsmen's inability to show restraint," Wesley had added, drawing curious stares from everyone listening.  
  
"None of us are angels, Buffy," Giles had explained. "We all have our faults, our sins. Humans are imperfect creatures and I think we always will be. If one looks closely enough one will always find something to condemn even the purest person for."  
  
"If the Huntsman and the Slayer combined," Wesley had taken over again, "are as Tara describes them then ... well, I fear that the light within you is so bright that it could blind you to the gray areas."  
  
"Next to a star everything else is blackest night," Tara had whispered.  
  
It did explain things, Buffy thought, at least to a certain degree. The Slayer and the Huntsman were a primal force of good, created for one purpose and one purpose only: To destroy evil in whatever form it might appear in. Only the benchmark had been set too high. The standard was impossible to measure up to for anyone merely human.  
  
Buffy and Angel understood that, unless they were very careful, the power they both carried would cause them to see evil everywhere. Even the slightest taint, the smallest possible sin, would be enough for the Slayer and the Huntsman. They had to remember that they, too, were human. They had to remember that humans were fallible, imperfect. That did not make them evil.  
  
Perversely enough this entire situation almost caused Buffy to develop sympathy for the Council of Watchers now. Almost. They had probably been right in laying down their strict rules all these centuries ago. The Slayer needed to be given a clear definition of what to fight and what not, otherwise it might well turn on everyone. Maybe it had even been the Watchers who had first locked the Huntsman away in the distant past, looking to control a force that would otherwise be a danger for all those it had been created to protect.  
  
It made some of their other policies all the more senseless, though. Now, more than ever, Buffy and Angel needed their friends and family. If they detached themselves from humanity, as the Council had always tried to do with the Slayer, how much easier would it be for them to judge the ones they were to protect? How much easier to find faults in all of them when they were not close enough to see that those very faults were what made them human to begin with?  
  
The Council had been told about what had happened in Sunnydale and would be sending an observer to assess the situation. Buffy intended to have a long and thorough talk with him or her.  
  
Right now, though, she and Angel had something much more important to do. They knew they had to restrain their power, the spirits they carried within them. They knew they had to be the ones in control, especially in a combat situation. Now it was time to see whether they could actually accomplish any of these lofty goals.  
  
It was time for the Slayer and the Huntsman to go into combat.  
  
"Okay, let's go," Buffy whispered, moving forward. Angel followed like a shadow, neither of them making any sound as they crept closer to the building in front of them. It was a large vampire nest, located with some help from Willy. It was close to dawn, so most of the residents were probably home by now, tucking in for the day. According to Willy there would be at least ten vampires in there, maybe more.  
  
Even better was the fact that the building was on the outskirts of town, far away from most warm-blooded citizens of Sunnydale. If Buffy and Angel found they were unable to stay in control during the battle it was better if there were no civilians around. That included their friends, all of whom were staying home tonight.  
  
Thoughts of their friends ceased as their senses reached out, reaching through the stonework and zeroing in on the evil inside. Some part of Buffy realized that her Slayer senses had expanded, the range almost double what she was used to. Most of her was focused on the upcoming battle, though. No, not a battle. A hunt. Those who were inside, bloated on the blood of innocents, were the prey. They would leave no doubt about that.  
  
She was hyper-aware of Angel's presence by her side as they edged closer to the side entrance of the house. They needed no words to communicate now. Slayer and Huntsman had been made to fight side by side and moved in synch by sheer instinct. Added to that was all the many nights they had fought together in the past, the familiarity with each others' styles and strengths. They flanked the door, their senses easily picking up the single guard standing just behind it. Then they sprang into action.  
  
The vampire guarding the door never had a chance. The wooden frame exploded inwards and two blurred shapes were all over him a heartbeat later. He barely felt the pain of his neck being snapped, shortly followed by a sharp wooden object stabbing into his chest. He crumbled into dust before completing the thought that had entered his head a moment earlier, starting with "What the ...?"  
  
Buffy and Angel moved on, unconcerned that the inhabitants of this house would now be aware of their presence. The narrow corridors favored them, preventing the vampires from simply overwhelming them through sheer numbers. Their heightened senses had no trouble immediately locating every single demon inside this building.  
  
They moved without word, without thought, allowing instinct to take over for the duration of the battle. Demons screamed left and right as they tore through the house like a whirlwind, outmatched vampires crumbling into dust in rapid succession. The few blows they managed to get in barely even slowed the deadly pair down.  
  
It was a sensation unlike anything Buffy had ever felt during her years as the Slayer. The pumping of adrenalin was addictive, that much she knew. The snap and pull of her muscles as she fought, the exhilaration of besting an opponent in battle, the burning energy that seemed to flow in her limbs, making them stronger than they had any right to be.  
  
All of that was now amplified tenfold. She moved through the building like a dancer on stage, a lethal rhythm that annihilated everything that stood in her path. Angel was like a second body to her, their minds working as one, and nothing could possibly stand against them. A feeling of omnipotence flooded her system as these creatures, whom she had beaten before but never this easily, just fell into dust.  
  
A moment later she clamped down on that feeling, shoved it away. Oh, it was so seductive, so incredibly attracting. No doubt it was this very feeling that had corrupted so many Slayers and Huntsmen before them. The power, the absolute certainty that they did good, that nothing they could do would be anything but right. It was such an easy trap to fall into. Abandon all self- doubt because hers was the power of light, the ultimate good.  
  
Buffy refused to fall. The power of the Slayer and the Huntsman combined flowed through her veins, moved in her limbs, destroyed the enemies around her, but she did not allow it to control her. She had never ridden a horse in her life, but this was what it had to be like. Riding a creature so much stronger than herself, yet staying in control without being thrown off. Allowing it to run, but being the one to decide in which direction. Telling it when to stop.  
  
The last vampire in the house met its end as they tore its head off with their combined strength and crumbled into ashes. Buffy and Angel stopped moving, their senses sweeping the building to make sure that it was clear. Their eyes locked with each other as they realized that they were alone. They had won the battle, easy as it had been, and achieved a victory much more important than the mere destruction of a dozen or so vampires.  
  
"We did it," Angel whispered. He did not mean the vampires, either.  
  
"Yes, we did," Buffy answered, a smile spreading on her lips.  
  
Moments later they were in each others' arms, the excess energy of the battle needing an outlet. Their bodies were covered with sweat, their hearts beating almost in synch. Slayer and Huntsman howled with satisfaction. The battle was won and the warriors' passion would be sated.  
  
#  
  
Riley sat beneath a tree about a hundred meters away from the house and lowered his infrared goggles, not quite believing what he had just seen. It had been a strange sight, seeing two heat signatures moving around a house that seemed empty, fighting invisible opponents. The advanced motion tracker incorporated into his goggles had shown him the rest. Creatures that held no body heat, yet looked and moved like human beings.  
  
A dozen vampires, maybe more. Buffy and Angel had annihilated them all in a matter of minutes. He had seen Buffy fight before, though never this effectively, but Angel? Granted, he had only seen him in a fight once, but despite his obvious skill he had seemed thoroughly human there. No super strength to be found.  
  
What was going on here? First Angel appeared all whole and healthy barely two days after Riley had seen him in the hospital, hanging onto life by a thread, and now this. There had to be some kind of explanation for this. Riley had seen Angel in the sunlight, so he could not be a vampire. Hell, if he were any kind of demon then Buffy would certainly not be his girlfriend. She was the Slayer, after all. The only non-demon aside from Buffy whom Riley had ever seen with moves like that, strength like that, was Jackson King and King was ...  
  
A light bulb went on over Riley's head. The Huntsman! Of course! Giles and Buffy had told him the lore. Just like with the Slayer, if one Huntsman died then another was called. Could it be ...?  
  
Riley would not go so far as to consider Angel a friend. Their shared attraction towards Buffy pretty much prevented that from ever happening. They had reached an understanding, though, about five minutes before King had nearly killed the other man. Angel was a good guy, that much Riley knew. If he had really been possessed by this Huntsman spirit, though, would that really matter? By all accounts Jackson King had been a good guy once, too.  
  
He had to do something about this. The Huntsman had almost killed him and only Buffy's intervention had saved his life. If Angel followed in King's footsteps, if he flipped out as well, would Buffy be able to stop him as well? Would she even want to, considering who he was, what he was to her?  
  
He did not know. He just did not know. He only knew that he had to find out. And fast.  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	35. The BestLaid Plans

Part 34: The Best-Laid Plans  
  
#  
  
Buffy looked around Giles' living room and could not help a little smile blooming on her face. Yes, things were still grim. Last night she had woken up screaming again, the faces of Faith and Jackson King burned onto the inside of her eyelids. She still had very little idea how to handle the fact that, because of her actions, two human beings were now dead. For the moment, though, she was able to put all of that aside.  
  
All her friends were here. This was actually the first full Scooby meeting in a long time, was it not? The last one was probably when the whole gang had gathered at the Summers' home for dinner, the day they had told Riley about the Huntsman. Quite a few things had changed since then.  
  
Willow, Xander, Anya, and the new girl called Tara were sharing the couch. The blonde witch seemed to be a bit awkward about being included here, but Buffy gave her an encouraging smile. Not only had Tara given them valuable insight into the nature of the Slayer and the Huntsman, she had also proven to be quite proficient when it came to research. Giles had already praised her for her help, something that had caused the witch to blush furiously.  
  
Giles was sitting in a separate chair, several pieces of paper and one huge book in his lap. The papers were faxes from the Council, but none of them knew yet what they contained. Wesley was sitting beside Giles, his own lap filled with yet more papers. Doyle was leaning against the wall beside them, looking a bit hung over. He had heard about Willy's bar from someone and spent quite a few hours there last night.  
  
"So, Giles?" Buffy began when everyone had settled down, her and Angel sharing Giles' big armchair. "What's the news from the English guys?"  
  
"We are not quite sure yet," Giles said, indicating himself and Wesley. "As you know the Council has activated the Huntsman for several reasons."  
  
"One of them being extreme stupidity?" Xander asked non-jokingly.  
  
"Less a reason, more an accompanying circumstance, I would say. Nevertheless they did have their reasons. The Council is in possession of several fragments of the scrolls of Aberjan, an ancient collection of prophecies."  
  
Quite a few people around the room groaned when the word prophecy was mentioned, Buffy among them. Prophecies never added up to anything good in her book.  
  
"What translations we have," Giles continued, "are ... inconclusive. It seems there will be a big battle sometime in the near future. A kind of ... well, final battle. Showdown between light and dark."  
  
"The End of Days," Angel murmured. "The Mhora said something about the End of Days coming."  
  
"During my time in Los Angeles," Wesley added, "I have had several ... encounters with Wolfram & Hart, a law firm that represents demons and dabbles in the supernatural."  
  
"Evil lawyers?" Willow asked. "Isn't that kind of ..."  
  
"Redundant?" Xander offered.  
  
Wesley looked at the two teenagers for a moment, but then continued. "With the help of a local cop, a woman who has had her own rather unpleasant encounters with both the demonic and Wolfram & Hart, I was able to ... acquire something from them. Another fragment of the scrolls of Aberjan. Mr. Giles and myself have worked these last few days, trying to fit the two pieces we have together."  
  
"The fragment Wesley brought mentions several key players in the coming battle. We can't be sure at this point, of course, but Wesley and I both believe that," he hesitated a moment, looking at Buffy and Angel, "well, that the two of you are going to be ... in the mix, so to speak."  
  
"In what way?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Uncertain, I fear," Wesley said apologetically. "So far the only thing we know definitely is that there are more pieces of the scroll out there somewhere. We will need them to make sense of everything."  
  
"We should consult the Oracles about this," Angel said. "Doyle, you feeling up for a trip to Los Angeles?"  
  
He had a lot of questions for the Oracles, questions that went beyond these prophecies. Why had they not told him about the Huntsman? Why had they not warned him what would happen to Faith if he and Buffy closed the bond between them?  
  
"As long as you are driving, man," Doyle muttered. "I knew I should have stayed away from that demon brew."  
  
Buffy's smile had faded bit by bit as Giles explained about yet another prophecy, but vanished completely upon the mere suggestion that Angel might be leaving town.  
  
"Aren't we forgetting something here?" she asked the assembled crowd, resulting in everyone looking at her. "Burke's reinforcements are probably here by now and they will be looking to hunt down Team 666. I think that's the more immediate problem, wouldn't you say?"  
  
Giles looked at his Slayer, having seen the brief look of panic on her face when Doyle mentioned Angel driving with him to Los Angeles. He silently agreed with her that it was probably not a good idea to separate the two of them this soon after the establishment of their bond, though probably for different reasons. From the stories they had read Huntsman and Slayer had never reacted all that well to being separated from each other.  
  
"Wesley, why don't you accompany Doyle to Los Angeles and find out what you can from these Oracles."  
  
The other ex-Watcher nodded, looking rather excited. "This should be quite interesting."  
  
"In the meantime," Giles looked at the others, "Buffy is right. We should do something to try and put an end to this situation with Burke's people and Team 666. If for no other reason than to give us some breathing room before this prophecy becomes reality."  
  
"I don't see how we can resolve this without a fight," Angel said. "From everything Burke said he has orders from rather high up to eliminate Team 666. He considers them a threat to national security."  
  
"Burke isn't the one we have to convince to back off. It's those 666 guys who have to go. If we can convince them that this is not a replay of Project Inferno I'm sure they're gonna leave us alone."  
  
"And how are you going to do that?" Xander asked. "They've seen you fight, Buff. They've seen King go mental on them and Burke's men. I'd say that, from their side, this all looks like one big déjà vu from their own bad old days."  
  
"There is also the matter of accountability," Giles reminded her. "While I agree that these people have suffered terribly, that does not give them the right to do what they did. They killed people, Buffy."  
  
And not by accident, he added silently. He was sure Buffy was still blaming herself for the deaths of King and Faith.  
  
"So it's okay to let Burke kill them in turn?" Buffy asked him. "From what he said his superiors don't even consider them human anymore, Giles. They won't get a trial. They won't be sent to prison. They'll be put down like animals."  
  
Even as she said these words Buffy heard her own mind argue against itself. They were killers. They had been wronged terribly. It was all just a mistake. Yes, a mistake that got at least two people killed so far. They were half-demon. They were half-human. They had attacker hed, tried to kill her. It was all just one big misunderstanding.  
  
Below these thoughts she could feel the humming of power nestled deep within her. Ever since the bond with the Huntsman, with Angel, had become fully active she felt that part of herself that was the Slayer more acutely than ever before. It was no longer just something that sprang up in the middle of combat or hummed softly when a vampire was near. It was like another layer of thought, a second set of eyes looking out into the world with its own special point of view.  
  
The Slayer had no conflict of morals in this matter. The members of Team 666 were killers, their hands stained with human blood. They needed to be hunted down and killed.  
  
"What would you have us do, Buffy?" Xander asked. "Let's say you can get these guys to back off. What's to stop them from going postal on someone else who might be a little too interested in the whole demon thing? Hey, the owner of that magic shop has a book on summoning demons. Let's kill him before he might turn some innocent people into half-breeds."  
  
"You're not helping, Xander," Willow chided him, though she looked torn herself.  
  
"If Burke goes after them," Buffy reminded the others, "right or wrong, a lot of people are gonna get killed. Do we want that?"  
  
Everyone present shook their heads.  
  
"We should try talking to them," Angel finally said. "Buffy is right, once they are gone Burke is gonna stand down. If all else fails Buffy and I will have to take them down before Burke can. Then we can try and figure some way to balance the scales here."  
  
"Can you take them down?" Willow asked. "From what you told us about them they sound quite powerful."  
  
"Taking them down will be the smaller problem, I think," Angel said in a low voice. "Doing it without killing them will be a lot tougher."  
  
#  
  
Considering all the thinking that had gone into this plan, such as it was, the first part was almost ridiculously simple. They knew that Team 666 had to be holed up somewhere in Sunnydale, which was not that big a town. Only a limited number of hotels and motels.  
  
After the battle at the warehouse, not to mention her first encounter with the werewoman called Julia, Buffy had a feel for the demonic half-breeds. Every kind of demon felt different to her Slayer senses and these strange soldiers were no different. With her old range of abilities Buffy would still have needed days, maybe weeks to sweep Sunnydale and zero in on them, if it had worked at all.  
  
Now, though, with her senses expanded by the union with the Huntsman, it was only a matter of hours. They took Angel's car and drove crisscross through Sunnydale, following a route that would lead them past all the hotels and motels in the smallest amount of time. It had actually taken Willow more time to assemble and print out the list of possible accommodations than it took them to make use of it and find their prey.  
  
Buffy's senses began to tingle when they passed the Sunnydale Roadside Motel, a cheap establishment near the outskirts of town, not far from the interstate. They drove closer and moments later Angel was able to sense them as well. He had never encountered them before, but the strange, jumbled mass of sensations and scents that seemed to belong to half a dozen demon species mixed together was not easily missed.  
  
Angel pulled into the parking lot and Buffy took out his cell phone, quickly dialing Giles' number.  
  
"We found them," she said without preamble. "You ready?"  
  
"As we can be," Giles voiced came from the other end.  
  
The rest of the gang, minus Doyle and Wesley, had stayed at Giles' apartment and prepared a contingency plan, just in case the whole diplomacy angle did not work out. Xander and Willow had wanted to come along first, but Buffy and Angel had convinced them that this made more sense. The Slayer and the Huntsman combined had all the fighting skill and strength they could ever ask for, and then some. Their friends would only be endangered by coming along.  
  
There was another way they could be of help, though. Just in case worst came to worst.  
  
"Okay, let's go," Buffy told Angel and they got out of the car.  
  
It took them but a moment to zero in on the right room. Their senses were tingling like crazy now, the proximity of the strange half-breeds unmistakable. The predators inside them hungered for combat, but they both kept a strict reign on those urges. At least for now. They would first try and talk.  
  
Angel went up and knocked on the door.  
  
Nothing happened for almost a full minute, then they could hear someone approaching from the other side. Someone amazingly quiet. Mere human senses would never have made out his footfalls. They also heard the sound of several weapons being readied.  
  
Thankfully no one started shooting straight away. The door opened slightly and a voice was heard from inside.  
  
"What do you want here?"  
  
"We just want to talk," Buffy said calmly. "We are unarmed and alone."  
  
The fact that these people had seen her fight before made her statement a little less innocent and harmless than it might have been otherwise, but that could not be helped. Odds were they would consider Angel as dangerous as her simply by association. Trying to appear harmless would not work for either of them.  
  
The door opened another bit and now they could see a face. Mentally subtracting twenty years, Buffy recognized Daniel Stone from the photograph she had seen. According to the file he had been the commander of this team, probably still was.  
  
"Forgive us for being a little lacking in the trust department," he said grimly.  
  
"Considering that your wolf friend tried to kill me without provocation the first time we met, you could cut me a little slack, I think."  
  
Stone's eyes narrowed and for a moment Buffy thought he would be using those telekinetic powers of his she had experienced before. Nothing happened, though. Not yet, at least.  
  
"What do we have to talk about?" he asked instead.  
  
"How about the fact that you think I am a result of this Project Inferno you all went through? How about the fact that you are completely wrong about that?"  
  
He clearly did not believe her, but no one started shooting, either. Buffy took that as something of a good sign.  
  
"Would you not rather talk than start fighting again?" Angel asked. "We can resolve this now without more people dying."  
  
Angel and Stone stared each other down for a long moment, neither of them blinking. Then, without taking his eyes off them, Stone took a step back and opened the door fully.  
  
"Come on in then," he invited. "Let's talk."  
  
Despite the fact that he did not sound like someone interested in amiable conversation Buffy and Angel both followed his invitation, stepping inside.  
  
#  
  
Both Slayer and Huntsman, as well as the members of Team 666, would have inevitably heard, seen, or smelled anyone sneaking up on them. Most magical forms of surveillance would also not have gone unnoticed.  
  
The device fastened to the underside of Angel's car was, unfortunately, one hundred percent high-tech and non-magical. It also told the people monitoring its frequency exactly where it was and allowed them to home in on it.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	36. Round Two

Part 35: Round Two  
  
#  
  
Riley kept telling himself that things were not as bad as they looked. Okay, so maybe Angel had been taken over by that Huntsman thing. That did not automatically make him evil, did it? The Huntsman was supposed to be a force of good, just too strong for most people to control. Maybe Angel was strong enough. Maybe his existing relationship with Buffy would give them both the strength to keep cool heads.  
  
He was not quite sure why he had decided to put a bug on Angel's car. To keep an eye on him, certainly, but was it because he might be a serious threat or because Buffy would be crushed if he went mental on them as well? Maybe both. Maybe neither. And right now it did not really matter anymore, did it?  
  
He kept far enough back so that even Buffy and Angel's enhanced senses would not pick him up, following them out of sight with the help of the bug. Once the car stopped for a longer time he crept closer, using field glasses to watch what was happening.  
  
What he saw made his blood run cold. Buffy and Angel were walking into a motel room and the guy standing in the door was none other than one of those half-demon soldiers who had killed two of his comrades. What the hell were they doing? For a moment he considered that they were trying to take them out all by themselves, trying to protect the lives of the SDO agents, but there was no fighting to be seen. They simply walked inside.  
  
Riley was torn. Not for a moment did he believe that some kind of sinister plot was afoot here, that Buffy had lied to him and was secretly in league with these monsters. That did not mean he completely trusted her. She was his friend, but he was certain that she left him out of the loop on a lot of things. Things like what had happened to Angel. Things like what was going down right now.  
  
Buffy was no doubt trying to resolve things, though he was not quite sure how. Talk them out of it? Riley had seen them in action, had seen them kill his friends, and doubted that it was possible. Even if it was, he could not allow these guys to get away with murder. He would not stand for it.  
  
It was one of the hardest decisions he had ever made. It might spell the end of his friendship with Buffy. Yet Riley was first and foremost a man who had sworn to do whatever was necessary to protect his country, even if that sometimes meant doing things he was not particularly proud of.  
  
With steady hands he took out his cell phone and dialed Burke's numbers.  
  
#  
  
Of the thirteen minutes that passed between Buffy and Angel's entry into the motel room occupied by the members of Team 666 and the moment all hell broke loose the first three were spent with hostile glares. Mutual hostile glares, to be exact. Buffy was not particularly fond of these former soldiers, especially the wolf woman Julia who had tried to eviscerate her twice now. Angel was leaning heavily toward angry for much the same reasons.  
  
"You came to talk," Stone finally said. "So talk."  
  
"Let's get one thing straight right at the start," Buffy began. "I know what happened to you here in Sunnydale twenty years ago and you do have my sympathies. That does not excuse what you did, though. Neither your unprovoked attack on me," she glared at Julia," nor your assault on SDO, which left two people dead and quite a few wounded."  
  
"I'd have imagined you would be a bit more enlightened now," one of the other men said. "You were forced to take out one of your own because he went nuts. Doesn't that tell you something about the kind of things they have done to him? To you?"  
  
"You have no idea what is going on here," Angel said. "Neither Buffy here nor Jackson King, the man she was forced to stop, are in any way connected to this Project Inferno you are so scared of. Neither is SDO for that matter."  
  
Snorts of disbelief were the only reaction they got.  
  
"You guys were intelligence operatives back in the day, weren't you?" Buffy asked with more than a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "How much intelligence did you put into this little revenge trip of yours before you started attacking and killing people?"  
  
"We know all we need to know," Stone said.  
  
"You know nothing," Buffy snapped back at him, her anger increasing. "You heard of some government operation here in Sunnydale, you saw a girl with superhuman powers, and you jumped to conclusions. For God's sake, people, has it never occurred to you that there might be things happening here that have nothing to do with your sad little sob story?"  
  
Angel put a calming hand on her shoulder, seeing the growing anger in both her and their opposites. Already he could feel the hackles rising on all present, both real and metaphorical. The Slayer and the Huntsman were ready and eager for a fight but they could not afford to let this thing blow up in their faces. Not yet.  
  
"SDO is here to kill demons," Angel said with a calm he did not really feel. "There is no new version of Project Inferno, no experiments, no demonized soldiers. Two people have already died for nothing."  
  
"Your lies would have a bit more substance," Julia smirked at them, "if they offered an explanation for you, little girl. Don't tell me you just woke up one day and had superpowers. It doesn't work that way."  
  
"As a matter of fact it does," Buffy shot back. "I'm the Slayer. I wasn't grown in a government test tube, I never went through any sort of military training, and no black ops budget paid for me. I was given my powers to keep the world safe from vampires and other demons and you people haven't exactly made that job easier for me."  
  
"The Slayer," one of the other men snorted. "That's nothing but a fairy tale vampires tell each other."  
  
"You mean like those fairy tales normal people tell each other?" Angel offered. "You know, the ones that feature vampires, demons, forces of darkness?"  
  
Buffy looked at the five faces before her, saw so much hatred and suspicion looking back at her. Unthinkable things had been done to these five, things so terrible that they seemed utterly incapable of looking past them.  
  
"The people who did this to you are dead," she said softly. "All of them. They have paid for their crimes. Why can't you just let it rest now?"  
  
She fixed her gaze on Stone, the leader of these people. There seemed to be the tiniest crack on his poker face.  
  
"How many more people have to die for your pain? How much blood it will take to wash away what was done to you?"  
  
No one answered her, but neither did she see much give in the faces before her, not even Stone's. A minute or two passed with no word spoken. It was but two minutes before all hell broke loose when Stone spoke again.  
  
"If you're telling the truth, and that's a very big 'if', we're going to need proof."  
  
Buffy was halfway to telling him to shove his proof up a certain opening. They were the ones who had come out of the blue and started attacking and killing. They were the ones who should have worried about proof before this whole thing even started. She said none of that, though. Who said she had no self-control?  
  
"Check your facts," she said instead. "Until four years ago I was your average teenager, a cheerleader, certainly no one who would be selected for some kind of government experiment. Jackson King was not even an American, he was a British citizen. Would the government choose a foreigner for this stuff? You saw the facilities SDO uses here in Sunnydale. Did they look like a super-secret genetic-magic-Frankenstein lab to you? There are a hundred ways for you to see the truth, Stone, you just have to start looking.  
  
"The problem is, you don't have much time left. The government people you're so afraid of? They managed to forget you existed. Heck, the cover-up was so successful that they forgot about the existence of the supernatural in general. It was only a year or so ago when I blew up the school to take out a major demon that they came to realize something strange was going on here. Now they know, though, and they also know about you. Considering that you already killed two government operatives they have classified you as a major risk to national security. They're gonna kill you if they get half a chance. The only way to avoid more bloodshed is for you to get out of here and disappear again like you did twenty years ago."  
  
"Right," one of the men snorted. "We're going away to let you carry on with no one the wiser. Like that's gonna happen."  
  
"Have you been listening, you idiot?" Buffy yelled at him, just managing to restrain herself from throwing a punch. "No one here gives a damn about your stupid revenge gig. The only ones who are still adding to Project Inferno's death toll are you people."  
  
The man, whose name she dimly remembered from the file to be Allan Rush, opened his mouth to say something back, but never got the chance. Suddenly all seven people in the room tensed as their superhuman senses kicked into high gear, noticing the shuffle of many boots outside, the clicking noises of automatic weapons.  
  
"It's a set-up," someone yelled and seven shapes started moving with superhuman speed.  
  
A second or two later the door was kicked open and gas grenades were fired inside, quickly filling the room with thick smoke. Gunshots followed only a heartbeat later.  
  
#  
  
Buffy, Angel, and the rest of the Scooby Gang had debated long and hard about what to do should it actually come down to a battle. Yes, the Slayer and the Huntsman probably had the raw power to take out the members of Team 666. Yes, Buffy and Angel had shown that they could restrain themselves even in the midst of combat. Still, after but a single test against a nest of freshly-risen vampires no one was really certain that both these facts would hold up in an infinitely more serious combat situation.  
  
Tara and Willow, along with Giles, had used magic to probe deeply into the Slayer-Huntsman bond. More than anything else it had shown them how diminished the Slayer had been due to the absence of its counterpart. Slayer and Huntsman were meant to fight together and separately they were so much less than they could be together.  
  
The vast power these two entities brought to their hosts was a two-sided sword, though. Buffy and Angel had, during their fight against the vampires, barely scratched the surface of what they were capable of. They could be much more powerful than that even. That increase in power was accompanied by a proportionate loss of self, though. Or, as Willow had put it, every bit of power they had at their beck and call would have to be bought with pieces of their sanity.  
  
That was why they had prepared something before heading off to face Team 666. With the levels of power they would probably need to defeat these super-soldiers odds were against them retaining enough control to avoid killing them. They needed a balance of power and control here and neither of them was confident that they could provide it, especially with both of them still so new to this power they now possessed.  
  
It had actually been Xander's idea, at least in a roundabout way. His exact words had been: "So, too much power, too little mind, yes? Too bad we can't stuff some more minds inside the two of you."  
  
The rest was a lot of research and preparation, as well as the selection of the people that would actually be part of this so-called joining spell. One person skilled in magic needed to remain on the outside to hold the spell together. Tara volunteered for this, maybe because she felt that she was still too new to the gang for the others to be comfortable with having her inside their heads. Anya also remained on the outside, bluntly stating that the only primal force with a seemingly perpetual thirst for either violence or sex she allowed near herself was Xander (though he came up short on the violence part). The boy had been unsure whether to be proud or embarrassed at hearing his girlfriend's description of him.  
  
With Wesley and Doyle on their way to Los Angeles this left the original members of the Scooby Gang. Willow, Xander, and Giles.  
  
The spell was set up at Giles' apartment, since distance would not really matter with magic like this. All they waited for was a signal, hopefully one that would tell them that they would not need this spell after all, that everything had gone well with the members of Team 666 and that they could stand down.  
  
Unfortunately the signal they did receive was the other one. It was something else Willow and Tara had prepared together, the two witches being much stronger together than apart. It was actually quite a simple charm, a pair of enchanted amulets (priced $4.99 at the local magic shop). The one Willow and Tara had would glow as long as its counterpart, the one Buffy carried in her pocket, was whole. Meaning that all Buffy would have to do was break hers and the others would find out.  
  
The amulet had barely stopped glowing when everyone took their position and Willow and Tara started the chant.  
  
"We call upon the power of Slayer and Huntsman and all who wield it. Last to ancient first, we invoke thee. Grant us access to thy domain of primal strength. Accept us to guide the power your hosts possess."  
  
Giles, Willow, and Xander were sitting inside a circle on the living room floor, surrounded by candles and several plates of smoking incense. Tara sat outside the circle, watched over by Anya who had assured the others that she would 'watch the strange lesbian girl who is playing with your heads'.  
  
"Link these minds, hearts, and spirits to those you have chosen," Tara now took over the chant. "We plead that these may be found worthy of inhabiting the vessels. Daughter of Sineya, son of Cernunnos, first of the chosen."  
  
The circle began to glow in a harsh white light, a light Tara had seen once before when looking at the two who wielded it. Just beyond her perception she could feel the glare of the primal forces they were about to tap into, the forces Buffy and Angel were mainlining even now. She knew that Xander, Willow, and Giles were aware of the risks. A human mind joined to such power and purity might not come out intact on the other side, or at all. They all knew it and accepted the danger. Still, for a second she hesitated, but then said the final line.  
  
"I implore thee. Admit them. Bring them into the vessels. NOW!"  
  
Simultaneously all three of them threw back their heads, their eyes were glowing silver for a moment, and the spell closed with an audible snap.  
  
#  
  
Soldiers were storming into the room, wearing heavy combat gear and carrying automated weapons. The orders were clear. The members of Team 666 had to be eliminated. Two civilians were also at the scene, one of them a consultant to SDO. If they offered to help, good. If they stayed neutral, also good. They were not to be harmed unless they actively sided with the targets.  
  
The backwards wall of the room was so much shreds, torn open by super- strong muscles and limbs, opening up an escape from the tear gas and the approaching soldiers. SDO teams had surrounded the entire motel, though, and as the members of Team 666, along with Buffy and Angel, stepped out into the open behind it the battle was quickly joined.  
  
Whatever good they might have done during their little chat, Buffy and Angel both realized that the time for talking was over now. Neither side would listen long enough to give the other a chance to kill them. A lot of people would die here unless they did something. The only thing they could do was to try and subdue both sides. Six half-demon super-soldiers. At least thirty SDO operatives. All out to kill each other.  
  
Buffy quickly reached into her pocket and broke the amulet Willow had given her. Whatever advantage this spell could give them, they needed it right now.  
  
Only a minute or so later the rush of power hit them both, as did the presence of three familiar minds that had not been there before. For a moment they were almost frozen with these sensations. Five joined minds awash in a sea of power that was at their disposal, but would snuff their sanity in an instant if they were found wanting.  
  
It was but a moment in the outside world, but it was an eternity for them. An eternity to look at the forces that now inhabited Buffy and Angel, but also an eternity to look at each other. To take an inside look at the individuals they had so often trusted their lives to, the ones they loved, the ones they had hated at times.  
  
Then the moment passed and Slayer and Huntsman sprang into action.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	37. After the War

Part 36: After the War  
  
#  
  
Xander was sprawled all over the couch, holding a bag of ice to his throbbing head. Anya was sitting beside him, but had nodded off some time earlier, her head resting on Xander's shoulder.  
  
"Let's not do this again soon, okay?"  
  
"You won't hear an argument from me," Willow added from where she and Tara were recuperating from the ordeal they had just gone through. Tara, having been on the outside, was merely exhausted. Willow was far beyond that. Willow was rather pleasantly surprised how good it felt to simply lean against the blonde witch and relax. There was that strange tingling in her belly that she could not quite make sense of yet, but she was too tired right now to spend much thought on it.  
  
"Haven't had a hangover like this in decades," Giles muttered, massaging his temples in a vein attempt to get his headache to stop. Actually this was rather similar to one particular long weekend he had no clear memories of. Well, apart from the knowledge that it had involved a lot of alcohol, quite a few magical spells, and lots of sexual activity. There had been neither sex nor alcohol this time, but the magic they had invoked more than made up for that. Not that he remembered everything that had gone down this time, either.  
  
They had come out of the joining spell and knew that the battle was over, though none of them was able to give any details of what had happened. Their memories were little more than a collection of random expressions and a feeling of limitless power that Giles doubted he would ever be able to put into words. He had been caught in the rush of black magic several times in his youth, but this was different. Better. Maybe even more seductive. He quickly decided that not remembering everything was probably a good thing.  
  
"Shouldn't Buffy and Angel have called by now?" Willow asked, sounding extremely sleepy.  
  
"They probably have a lot of cleaning up to do," Xander told her. "I don't remember much, but I think we kicked serious butt." He winced as his head started throbbing harder. "And may I just repeat once more, let's not do this again anytime soon."  
  
"I think Buffy and Angel should have no problem handling things now," Giles agreed. "Let's just hope that an exercise like this won't be necessary again."  
  
About five minutes later everyone in Giles' apartment was sound asleep, not particularly worried over what might be going on elsewhere in Sunnydale. After all, despite their lack of detailed memories, they knew they had just kicked serious butt.  
  
#  
  
Riley was still hurting all over and doubted anything less than a week of rest, hot baths, a long stay in the sauna, and some massages would suffice to make him feel even halfway healthy again. He did not doubt that most of his body was covered in bruises and every step he took was just one more proof that the world did not like him. How else could it justify making him hurt this much?  
  
They had prepared for a huge battle and been armed accordingly, loaded for bear as the saying went. Over thirty men, all of them among the best fighters in the world, equipped with the latest in military hardware. All of them merely human, yes, but more than ready to prove that being human was more than enough to handle everything, including demonized super- soldiers.  
  
Said proof had not been delivered and the big battle they had all prepared for ended within five minutes. Five short minutes. He shook his head, still not quite able to believe everything that had gone down. He had felt a lot of apprehension regarding his decision to call down an SDO raid on that motel despite Buffy's obvious decision to deal with Team 666 by herself. It had been a matter of trust, yes, and Riley had shown that he did not trust her. Which was, as much as it pained him, the truth.  
  
He liked Buffy, he really did. He even liked Angel to a certain degree, as much as one man could like another man who happened to have the girlfriend he also wanted. What he did not like was what was happening to them. Okay, so maybe he should have talked to Buffy and Angel about his fears, but could anyone honestly blame him for being reluctant? Jackson King had almost killed Riley twice while possessed by this Huntsman thing, not to mention what its proximity had done to Buffy. Was it so hard to understand that he did not want to find out whether or not Angel had more of a handle on things than King had had?  
  
Well, water under the bridge. All over with and done within five minutes. Just five minutes. He still had a hard time believing it. Had he not seen it with his own eyes, felt it in the form of his bruises, he would never have believed it.  
  
Riley walked into the main room of SDO's auxiliary headquarters in Sunnydale and surveyed the scene. Burke and a handful of other SDO operatives were there, all of them looking just as bruised and tired as he himself felt. All of them wore identical looks on their faces, too. Looks composed of both anger and a respect that bordered on awe and fear.  
  
The five members of Team 666 were also present, though all five of them were restrained quite thoroughly. Apart from that they were almost indistinguishable from the SDO operatives, looking just as beat, just as angry, just as awed.  
  
The only two people with different expressions were Buffy and Angel, who stood in the middle of the room between the two factions. Both had their arms crossed across their chests and positively hummed with energy. Even if Riley had not experienced firsthand what they were capable of he would not have wanted to get either of them pissed at him right now.  
  
Riley walked up to stand beside Burke, the two agents not exchanging any words. Both of them knew why they were here, what would happen now.  
  
"This is how it's going to be," Buffy said, seeing that everyone was present now. She paused for a moment, looking to see whether anyone felt like arguing with her laying down the law. No doubt most people present wanted to, but they all had too much common sense to actually do it right now.  
  
"There will not be anymore stupid fighting," Buffy continued with a hard stare. "There has been more than enough of that. Instead we're going to do something radically different. We're going to sort things out in a rational way."  
  
She turned to look at the members of Team 666, all of whom were fuming. "The five of you are going to stand trial for what you did. And I don't want to hear anything about how you had the right to do anything or how badly you were mistreated in the past. I know all that and I'm tired of hearing it again and again."  
  
Stone fixed her with a scorching glare. "You are even crazier than I thought you were if you think they," he motioned at Stone and his people, "are going to allow this to go before a court of law."  
  
Buffy turned towards Burke. "Oh, I think they will. Burke, You will treat these people as human beings, not some kind of animal to be put down. They will receive a fair trial, one that will take into account what was done to them in the past."  
  
Burke shook his head. "Ms. Summers, I know you mean well, but my superiors will never agree to something like ..."  
  
"Oh, I think they will," Angel interrupted him with a smirk on his face. "Because if they don't a friend of ours will make sure that this very comprehensive file we found about Project Inferno will find its way to several major news agencies."  
  
Burke stared at him, openmouthed. "They ... they will never believe ..."  
  
"Maybe not," Angel shrugged. "Ask them if they want to take the chance to find out."  
  
Buffy took a step toward Burke, her face softening a little. "I don't want to do it that way," she said. "We're on the same side, Burke, we both want to keep the world safe from the monsters. But that does not mean we can simply put down people like animals. These are people, Burke. Yes, they have done terrible things, but terrible things have also been done to them. You owe them, Burke. Those bosses of yours owe them."  
  
Burke was visibly torn. He was a decent man, or as decent as this business he had been in for many years allowed him to be. He had come to Sunnydale with but one intention, neutralizing a threat to the American people, making sure that the innocents were safe from these monsters. He certainly had not wanted to learn that the government he served had, in the past, created monsters of their own. No, not monsters, something far worse. Something that could not simply be put into a box labeled "EVIL" and be done with.  
  
"We are not asking you to pardon them, Burke," Angel said. "We are asking you to treat them like human beings. Nothing more, nothing less."  
  
Burke closed his eyes, thinking. His superiors would not be happy with him, that much was for sure. It had been his decision to invite Buffy Summers into the SDO and now that same girl that had proved to be such an asset for their operation was blackmailing him, was blackmailing the company into doing something that ... well, he could not quite convince himself to call it right, but it was somewhat close to that.  
  
"How do you know I won't just have them shot the moment you turn your back?" he asked Buffy.  
  
The Slayer smiled. She knew she had him.  
  
"I want your word that you won't," she answered him. "You also know that I have friends who have ways of digging up even the best-kept secrets, don't you?"  
  
There was a long pause while Buffy and Burk just looked at each other. Finally Burke sighed and brushed a hand through his hair, taking a step back.  
  
"I will talk to my superiors about this. I can't promise you more than this right now."  
  
"Talk to them then," Buffy nodded. "We'll wait here."  
  
Burke gave her one last look, then left to look for a phone. The other SDO operatives moved away as well, not comfortable to share the room with people who had kicked their butts once too often. The only one who remained behind was Riley.  
  
"I didn't want things to go down this way," he finally said after a minute of awkward silence. "I'm sorry."  
  
Not it was Buffy's turn to sigh. "I can't say I'm happy with things, but ... I guess I understand why you did what you did."  
  
Angel stepped closer to the two of them. "They were trust-issues on both sides here, Riley. We did not take you into our confidence and you did not trust us to handle things by ourselves."  
  
"Does that make us even?" Riley asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.  
  
"I think there is no such thing as even in a situation as messed-up as this, Riley. Just common understanding, I guess."  
  
"We are getting a handle on this Slayer-Huntsman thing, Riley," Buffy said.  
  
"I saw as much," Riley said, rubbing his aching jaw. His tone was not angry, though. He knew fully well how easy it would have been for Buffy and Angel to inflict much more than bruises on him and all of his colleagues. He had seen King kill indiscriminately without so much as a hesitation.  
  
"I'm asking you to trust us, Riley," Buffy went on. "Trust us to know what we can handle and what we can't. Even after everything that happened I still think it's a good idea, in general at least, for us to work together with you. But we need to make sure that misunderstandings like this don't happen again, otherwise we might as well cut our ties right now and be done with it."  
  
Riley did not know how any sort of future cooperation between the SDO and Buffy, or Buffy and Angel now, was supposed to work. Right now he was not even sure whether there would be an SDO, not with the way things had gone wrong. Threat of public exposure aside, he doubted many people in Washington and Langley would be happy about all these past sins coming to light. A lot of effort had gone into forgetting everything connected with Project Inferno and the supernatural in general. If the trial Buffy wanted for Team 666 were to take place, even in a closed, non-public way, all these buried bodies would have to be dug up.  
  
Not that it would necessarily be a bad thing for the company to deal with its own failings, but he doubted that many other people would see it that way.  
  
"I don't want that," Riley finally said. It was the only thing he could be sure of right then and there.  
  
They waited the better part of an hour for Burke to return and Buffy and Angel were surprised by the fact that they were barely tired, at least physically. Their state of mind was a completely different matter and both of them longed for some rest, as well as some time to work through everything they had done today.  
  
They had taken out over thirty armed professional soldiers and five super- powered half-demons in barely five minutes. Even for people who were used to doing super-human feats on a daily basis this was no easy pill to swallow.  
  
When Burke finally came back he looked even more tired than before and the near-permanent scowl on his face seemed deeper than ever. It had not been an easy conversation, that much was evident.  
  
"I talked with my superiors," he said after a moment, "and they have agreed. There are conditions, though."  
  
"Those would be?" Angel asked.  
  
"One, that the two of you continue to work with SDO." He did not need to add that this was mostly so the government could keep an eye on them. "Second, as soon as the trial is finished you will hand over all the data and records you ... acquired from the CIA database, as well as helping our security people to make sure that such a breach can never happen again."  
  
"That should be doable," Buffy said. Willow would probably get a huge kick out of helping the CIA fortify their database against magical hacks.  
  
"There is one more thing," Burke continued. "You signed a non-disclosure agreement, Ms. Summers, about not involving anyone except Mr. Giles in SDO business. You have clearly violated this agreement, which gives us the right to press criminal charges."  
  
He paused, waiting for Buffy to acknowledge this. She simply nodded, not as concerned as she probably should be. After what had happened today she found it hard to be concerned about anything.  
  
"Considering the situation we are willing to let it slide for the moment," Burke told her, "but only for the moment. To be frank, my superiors do not like to be blackmailed. Neither do I. Should any information about what happened here ever reach the public we will press charges against you. You will spend the rest of your life in prison, even if we have to build one especially to hold someone with your power levels."  
  
Looking into his eyes, Buffy realized that he meant every word he just said. It was not an idle threat, either. The government knew who she was, where she lived, and even with her vastly increased power levels she would not be able to fend off an entire country's worth of law enforcement, military, and secret agents. Plus, she had indeed violated the law by telling her friends everything about SDO. And could she really blame Burke for threatening her back when she had threatened him first?  
  
After another moment's consideration, plus a quiet exchange with Angel, she held out her hand.  
  
"It's a deal, Mr. Burke."  
  
Burke shook her hand, though there was nothing friendly in the gesture. Buffy did not know whether they would ever regain the rather amiable working relationship they had had in those early weeks after her joining SDO. Odds were against it, she guessed. Still, they did not have to like each other to fight monsters together. It would be easier if they did, but they could work around it. Or so she hoped.  
  
"A transport will arrive shortly to bring Team 666 to Langley," Burke said. "You have my word that nothing will happen to them until the trial. That trial will be a non-public one, of course, only the Senate's Intelligence Oversight Committee will be involved."  
  
"I understand. I expect to be called as a witness, though."  
  
Burke paused for a moment, but then nodded. "That can be arranged."  
  
Some more words were exchanged, then Buffy and Angel turned to leave. Both of them were longing for some downtime, and a lengthy discussion with their friends about their shared experience was also in the cards. Before they left, though, Buffy turned to look at Stone and his people one last time.  
  
"I hope you don't expect any thanks," Stone growled at her.  
  
"Certainly not. I just hope you will make the best of this."  
  
"They are never going to let us go again, you realize that? Even if they don't find some way of sentencing us to death, they will lock us away for life. They can't have things like us walking in the streets."  
  
Buffy just nodded, aware that Stone's were true. She and Angel had debated long and hard about what to do, but this was really the only way. Stone and his people were murderers, no matter the circumstances. They could not simply let them go and neither did they have the means to imprison them for any length of time. Turning them over to the government, while trying to ensure something of a fair treatment, was the best thing they could do. Not perfect, no, just the best out of many bad choices.  
  
"Let's go, beloved," Angel murmured to her as he led her out of the building. They were other things they had to do, things they had to worry about. Prophecies, signs, portents, upcoming apocalypse, you name it.  
  
Right now, though, maybe they would be able to get at least some peace and quiet. Just for a while.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	38. Signs, Portents, and Really Weird Dreams

Part 37: Signs, Portents, and Really Weird Dreams  
  
#  
  
The man's name was Holland Manners and on a scale of one to ten, ten being a decent human being and one being a vicious mass murderer, he would rank himself somewhere below zero. Not that he had done much in the way of killing himself, no. In fact he could not even remember the last time he had personally ended a life. The times when he had been forced to sully his own hands that way were long past.  
  
The uninformed looked at Wolfram & Hart, his place of employment, as a successful and wealthy company. There were some rumors about shady dealings, yes, but what company was not occasionally surrounded by such rumors? Especially those companies dealing in that so wonderfully corruptible human profession called the law.  
  
Many years ago Holland Manners had signed a contract with Wolfram & Hart, a contract that would bestow him with many benefits and even more power, asking only very little in return. Unwavering loyalty right unto and beyond death and that little something he had never seen much use for anyway, his soul. Holland considered it a great deal, still did, and whatever regrets he might have had once had gone the way of his conscience.  
  
Studying the reports in front of him left him with somewhat mixed feelings. Yes, things were progressing quite nicely, but some details were not as they should be. He had not been there himself, but he had read all the records of how difficult and costing it had been to lock the Huntsman away all these many centuries ago. He had not thought that the Watchers Council would have the guts to actually let him loose again, but they had. And now it seemed that it had found itself a host capable of controlling its power.  
  
Angel. Wolfram & Hart had a thick file on this amazing creature. His name appeared in the Scrolls of Aberjan, several times actually, and a special projects division had been formed with the sole purpose of making sure that this vampire with a soul would be on their side come the day. Things seemed to have progressed nicely until someone higher up decided to send a Mhora after Angel. That had been a blunder the likes of which Holland had never seen before and he was glad that he was not the one who had to pay for it.  
  
Now Angel was no longer a vampire, his own nature seeking to corrupt him, but a human being in whom one of the principal forces of light had taken residence. This was definitely not good. Oh, there was still a good chance their plan to draw Angel to their side could work, the Huntsman's ferocious nature held a huge potential for corruption all in itself, but it would have been a lot easier were he still a creature of darkness.  
  
His analysts had concluded that Angel's relationship to the Slayer, Buffy Summers, was his strongest tie to the side of light. It had to be cut and cut in such a way that Angel's wrath would not be directed at Wolfram & Hart. Thankfully the plan had needed but minor modifications to make that a possibility.  
  
Still, even though things could still work out the way they should, too many unforeseen things had happened. Angel should never have become human and certainly he should never have become the new Huntsman. The Powers That Be had interfered in their plans once to often and something needed to be done about that.  
  
Thankfully someone capable was already on the job. Holland had been pleasantly surprised to hear that one of the senior partners themselves had chosen to manifest on Earth in order to deal with this particular problem. It was just one more sign how important this project was to them. He knew how difficult it was for the partners to take shape on this plain, especially this close to the big day.  
  
Well, with one of the senior partners on the job things could not go wrong. Holland leaned back in his chair and sighed contentedly. Soon he would have to go to that damn ritual. He hated wasting his time like that, but his presence was expected. Well, could not be helped. Besides, this was rather important to the plan. Essential, in fact.  
  
Maybe he could arrive fashionably late, somewhere around the Latin part.  
  
#  
  
"You are not welcome here," the female Oracle said.  
  
"Your kind is not allowed within this realm," the male added. "You are violating the rules."  
  
The intruder looked extremely bored, inspecting her nails as the two gold- skinned beings droned on. It was a disgrace that she had to lower herself to this level, but if one wanted things to be done right ... well, there was no helping it.  
  
"Are you quite finished?" she asked the Oracles as they finally stopped speaking. "Because, God, listening to you even one more second would really ruin what is left of this day for me, you know?"  
  
She did not wait for an answer.  
  
#  
  
Wesley and Doyle would never know how incredibly lucky they were to arrive much later than they had originally intended to. The drive from Sunnydale to Los Angeles took longer than usual due to several bouts of distracting bickering between the Englishman and his Irish companion. Once in Los Angeles the discussion continued when Doyle wanted to head directly for the Oracle's chamber, while Wesley wanted to go over those parts of the scrolls they had one more time first, just so he would have all the facts straight when speaking to the Powers' representatives on Earth.  
  
When they finally arrived at the Oracle's chamber beneath the post office they found only carnage. The usually sealed stone arch was busted open , the chamber beyond no longer awash with white light, but rather dark and stinking of death.  
  
The Oracles themselves, or what was left of them, were on the floor, looking like so much raw meat. A large bloodstain had spread across the formerly white marble, looking almost black in the dim light.  
  
Several bloody footprints were leading away from the site of the carnage, footprints that looked as if they had been made by high-heeled women shoes.  
  
It took Wesley and Doyle but a short time to decide that they should return to Sunnydale as quickly as possible. There was no bickering, no discussion, and the entire drive back was spent in deadly silence.  
  
#  
  
When Buffy and Angel arrived back at Giles' apartment they found the entire gang deeply asleep. Xander and Anya were huddled together, as were Willow and Tara. The latter caused Buffy to frown a bit, especially seeing as her enhanced senses picked up some weird vibes from the two witches, but she was too tired to give it much thought.  
  
Not having the heart to wake them, Buffy and Angel headed directly toward Giles' spare guestroom and tumbled onto the bed. Talking could wait. Their bodies were not that tired, but their minds more than made up for that. Too many things had happened much too quickly and they needed some time to process everything.  
  
Buffy fell asleep certain that she would be having some really weird dreams. She did not know the half of it.  
  
#  
  
There were just too many books.  
  
The entire room was overflowing with books of all shapes and sizes, all walls covered with shelves that groaned under the weight put upon them. The floor was barely visible beneath heaps of bound paper, as well as the occasional scroll. He could barely put his feet anywhere and the pages seemed to be looking at him with an accusing air.  
  
"I will never be able to read all this," Rupert Giles muttered. "Too many books."  
  
"That's just great, mate," a familiar voice called out to him. He quickly turned around and saw someone sitting on top of a huge stack of books, grinning like the Cheshire cat.  
  
"Ethan?"  
  
Ethan Rayne just went on grinning, absently leafing through one of the many books.  
  
"Prophecies, legends, spells, there is always so much of it," he said, shaking his head. "You'll never be able to make sense of it all, Ripper."  
  
"But I have to," Giles answered, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I have to figure it out, all of it, and I don't have much time."  
  
"Ah, yes," Ethan nodded. "End of the world coming up, I almost forgot. And you are going to be the Watcher who figures it all out. The wise and benevolent elder who puts the warriors on the correct path and saves all of creation from evil." He laughed. "Ripper, old mate, who do you think you're kidding?"  
  
"I can do this," Giles went on, looking back and forth among the many books. "I just have to organize this somehow. The answers are in the books somewhere, I know it."  
  
Ethan shrugged and threw the book he had been reading over his shoulder.  
  
#  
  
"Shouldn't we be out there?"  
  
Willow and Xander were sitting on the floor in Xander's basement, a game of poker between them. Several bowls filled with snacks were also there and the TV was running in the background. It was muted, though, and they could both hear the sounds of battle from outside.  
  
"We should, I think," Willow answered Xander's question. "It's just ... I don't think we can."  
  
She looked at the cards she held in her hands. She had two pairs, queens and jacks. The queens had Tara's face, the jacks pictured Oz, and both of them seemed to look at her questioningly. The fifth card was blank. How was she supposed to do anything while this last card remained blank?  
  
Xander frowned, trying to figure out why he was not getting up. Something was going on out there, a battle, and he knew it was important. Buffy, yes, Buffy was out there fighting. He knew that. He knew she needed their help. So why didn't they get up and help?  
  
He was missing just one card for a straight. The king was there, carrying Giles' face. The ace had Buffy's. There was the jack with Angel's picture on it and the queen which sported Willow. The only thing missing for a straight was a ten, but instead of that he had a two, a two with his picture on it.  
  
"Not enough," he muttered. "Not enough."  
  
The sounds of battle outside grew louder.  
  
#  
  
Buffy and Angel stood on a hill and looked out across a seemingly endless desert. The sun stood almost directly above them, leaving no shadows to hide from its glare. The only vegetation in sight were several dead trees, apart from that there was nothing but sand.  
  
"We have to be elsewhere," Buffy mumbled. "I think."  
  
"This place seems familiar. Almost as if I've been here before."  
  
A noise made them both turn around. Something was approaching them from behind. No, two somethings. Demons? Vampires? Both of them went into fighting mode, expecting the adrenaline boost and opening up of their senses that occurred every time Slayer and Huntsman were about to go into combat. Only nothing happened and neither of them could feel the presence of power within themselves.  
  
Two shapes crept into sight. They seemed vaguely human, but resembled nothing so much as predators. They crouched low, almost walking on all fours, and hissed at them. They were a man and a woman, that much was apparent, and there was murder in their eyes.  
  
"You are not worthy," a voice suddenly said. Buffy and Angel looked up and saw Jackson King standing on top of the hill, looking down at them. "They find you wanting."  
  
The two predators attacked them.  
  
  
  
TO BE CONCLUDED 


	39. You Think You Now?

Part 38: You Think You Know?  
  
#  
  
"This does not make any sense," Giles muttered as he paged through volume after volume of obscure texts that surrounded him on all sides. There were clues in all of them, tiny pieces of an impossibly large puzzle that he had to put together and fast, otherwise the entire world might pay the price. If only it weren't so damn much to read.  
  
"Face it, Ripper," Ethan said from where he was sprawled beside Giles, "you will never make sense of all this in time. I mean, come on, you didn't even manage to figure out that one little prophecy regarding your own Slayer's death. It was because of you that the Master killed her, you know? If only you had read the prophecy correctly ..."  
  
Giles shook his head. No, he had to figure this out, he had to figure it all out. The answers were here, he knew it.  
  
There were so many books, though. So many books.  
  
#  
  
"Need a ten," Xander muttered, looking at the cards in his hand. "A two's not enough, need a ten."  
  
The battle went on outside, but he could not rise to join it. He needed a ten, otherwise the straight was incomplete and worth nothing, nothing at all. One wrong card, one weak link, it would bring the whole thing tumbling down.  
  
#  
  
Holland Manners looked at his watch, feeling incredibly bored. These rituals just dragged on and on forever. At least Lindsey had finally gotten to the Latin part and things were starting to happen. The four vampires chained to the box began to growl as they felt the magic in the air around them. A wind began to pick up.  
  
"It's about time," a voice from the entrance muttered. Holland looked at the tall woman, who was busily inspecting her nails. They were coated with blue and gold blood. "I was starting to think I would have to do everything around here."  
  
Proper etiquette would have required him and everyone else present to bow before the senior partner, but Holland figured that she would not want the ritual interrupted for that. He signaled to Lindsey to continue.  
  
#  
  
Willow's eyes were darting back and forth between the two pairs in her hand. The jacks with Oz' face were looking at her pleadingly, seeming to encompass a promise that the one whose likeness they wore would be back soon, if only she would stay true to him. The queens, though, the ones who wore Tara's face, only sneered at that notion, reminding her of the strange yet exciting feeling she always got when Tara was close.  
  
She had to decide, she realized. The fifth card, blank as it was, seemed to mock her. Decide who to latch on to. You need someone to define yourself by. A Slayer to be a sidekick to. A boyfriend to be a girlfriend to. A witch to be ... something to.  
  
Decide, the card mocked her. Decide.  
  
#  
  
"Can't you drive any faster?" Wesley inquired impatiently, at the same time trying to get his clunker of a cell phone to start working.  
  
"Angel's car wasn't built for speed," Doyle responded. A cramp was developing in his right leg from keeping the pedal to the metal for so long. Still the old convertible Angel had loaned them for their trip to Los Angeles refused to go any faster than before.  
  
Wesley barely heard his companion's voice, his thoughts too busy with what had happened. The Oracles were dead. Someone had killed the messengers of the Powers That Be. He did not even want to speculate what might have happened had he and Doyle been there. Whatever was capable of killing these beings would probably have made short work of the two men.  
  
He has hesitant to draw conclusions with so little information to go by, but he could think of only one thing this meant. The opening shot in the war had been fired, the first casualties had occurred.  
  
This was the beginning. The beginning of the end.  
  
#  
  
Buffy and Angel were running as fast as their legs would carry them, the sand beneath their feet slowing them down. They could hear the sounds of their pursuers directly behind them, could almost feel them breathing down their necks.  
  
The Slayer and the Huntsman were pursuing them, frothing at the mouths, their eyes blazing with unearthly power. These two were not worthy of the power they had received as the entities' earthly hosts. They had dared to contaminate the purity of the light with the presence of mere mortals, had allowed others to touch the divine.  
  
This could not be allowed. The punishment for this had to be death.  
  
"There is nowhere to run," Angel huffed as they ran. "This desert goes on forever."  
  
Something was wrong with this picture, Buffy knew. How come they were in the desert? How was it possible that they were being chased by the Huntsman and the Slayer? Angel was the Huntsman. She was the Slayer. She was missing something here, but she could not quite grasp the thought. It eluded her far more effectively than they managed with their pursuers.  
  
#  
  
"Why are you doing this to yourself, Ripper?" Ethan asked. "Haven't you done enough for this sorry world, mate? You gave the best years of your life to the good fight. Don't you think it's time to let someone else take over?"  
  
"There is no time," Giles muttered without taking his eyes away from the books. "It's coming too quickly. We need to be ready."  
  
"There will always be something. Avert one apocalypse, the next will come along. Kill one demon, there are a thousand others. And you know what? Even if there wasn't a single demon in this world, it would still be a mess. Humans do a good job to mess it up all by themselves. Look at me! No one forced me to start worshipping Chaos, Ripper. It's just the way the human animal works."  
  
"We are more than animals," Giles growled, now glaring at Ethan. "Yes, there are evil men out there, Ethan, I know that better than anyone. But there is good as well, in all men."  
  
Ethan gave him a snort. "You don't really believe that, mate. Do you think there is good in me, for example?"  
  
Giles frowned. Something was off with this picture. Ethan worshipped Chaos, yes, but he did not think of himself as evil, did he? Why would Ethan try and keep him from saving the world? Ethan was not a demon that thrived on destruction. If the world came to an end it would mean his death as well.  
  
Something was wrong here, but he could not quite put his finger on it.  
  
#  
  
Xander and self-doubt were old friends, and not just since most of his friends had developed superpowers and started saving the world on a regular basis. He had lost count of the number of times he had wondered whether the world would even notice his absence were he to die now. He hid his doubts behind jokes and wisecracks, but they were always there.  
  
A two pretending to be a ten.  
  
He shook his head as things kept pounding down on him. Not good enough for college. Not good enough for Buffy. Not even good enough for Cordelia. Good enough for donut runs, yes, maybe for handing over a stake when the Slayer lost hers, but that was it. Hiding in the basement because not even his parents could stand the sight of him. Going from job to job without any sort of direction in his life. If he died today the world would still survive tomorrow.  
  
"No," he screamed, throwing the cards away. "I don't think like this!"  
  
Loser! Weakling! Nothing but a hindrance to those with power. Can't even compete with a walking corpse.  
  
"That's not me!" Xander rose to his feet. "That's not me!"  
  
#  
  
Willow flinched when Xander jumped to his feet, the cards tumbling from her hands. Something had shifted, the haze around her mind seemed ... lighter. The cards were face-down on the floor, no longer staring up at her with the faces of the people she loved. Loved? Did she love Tara? A woman? It did not matter. Or it did, but not in this matter.  
  
"I don't need this," she told herself. "I am more than that."  
  
Just a sidekick. Nothing but the Slayer's pet. Would have faded away like Marcy if not for Buffy. Can't even make sense of your own emotions without using magic. Flinging yourself at a woman because no man wants to be around you. Not Xander, not Oz, no one.  
  
"I'm Willow," Willow muttered, shaking her head. "I don't need anyone else to tell me who to be. I'm Willow!"  
  
#  
  
"This is all gibberish," Giles said, rising to his feet. The pages were staring back at him and he realized that he had not been looking at ancient runes, but rather nonsensical doodles a kindergarten class might have made up. All around him the books were begging him to be read, pleading for him to make sense of their content, each promising to hold vital clues to the salvation of the world.  
  
He shook his head. No, this was not the way. He had spent so many years with his nose in the books, trusting in them to tell him everything about life, about the crusade, about himself. It had taken a young American teenager to show him that books were not everything. The heroism of an innocent girl, shaking with fright yet still willing to sacrifice herself for an uncaring world, had shown him that there was more to life than the latest prophecy.  
  
"I will figure it out," he told Ethan, or whoever that was. "I will make sense of it. And we will save the world."  
  
Ethan shrugged and vanished, as did the books around him.  
  
#  
  
Neither of them was able to say how long they had been running, but suddenly their pursuers were no longer behind them. Instead they were now standing right in front of them and where they had resembled vicious predators but a moment before they now looked nothing like that.  
  
The chase was over and their former pursuers now faced them in the form of radiant light.  
  
"I don't understand," Buffy whispered, looking at the female shape in front of her with an expression of rapture on her face.  
  
"It's wicked simple, B," a voice told her.  
  
Both Buffy and Angel turned away from their radiant counterparts and looked at the newcomer. She was still dressed the way they remembered her, tight leather pants, barely decent tube tops. The only difference was the fact that all her clothes were now a brilliant white.  
  
"Faith?" Buffy asked, not certain of anything anymore. Something very strange was happening to them, that much was for certain.  
  
"You caused a bit of a ruckus, I fear," yet another voice said. Angel gasped when he saw Jackson King walking towards them, also dressed in white.  
  
Buffy opened and closed her mouth, but no words came out.  
  
"You did a major bad, people," Faith informed them, smiling. "But it's all better now. You get to walk away with just a little scolding."  
  
Without warning the two radiant figures of the Slayer and the Huntsman stepped toward them. Buffy and Angel gasped as the light entered their bodies, slipping inside like water down a drain. The haze around their thoughts lifted at the same moment. It did not answer any of their questions, though. What was going on here?  
  
Jackson King chuckled upon seeing the confusion on their face. "Strange how these things work. They don't really mind someone going insane with the power of light roaring in their heads, but they get rather brassed off when you allow outsiders to tap into the same power. Strange priorities, but I guess that's part of the whole 'mysterious ways' thing."  
  
"We are dreaming," Angel suddenly realized. "None of this is real."  
  
"Oh, it's very real," Faith corrected. "Real enough that both of you would have bit the big one if things hadn't worked out."  
  
"Things?" Buffy asked. "Was this some sort of test? Did they test us? And who is 'they', anyway?"  
  
"It was a test," Jackson confirmed, "but not for you. Your friends, Buffy. They got a taste of the power and, well, people wanted to see whether or not that was a good thing, you know?"  
  
"As for 'they'," Faith went on, "it's kinda hard to explain, B. I'm afraid I'm still trying to figure things out myself. Still new to this whole being dead thing."  
  
Buffy's face fell, a tear in her eyes. "We killed you," she whispered.  
  
"Chill, B! Not your fault. I got a whole new perspective now. There's a whole lot of stuff they tell you once you're dead. All the big secrets and gossip. It's cool."  
  
"Are the others all right?" Angel asked, looking around. The desert had faded from view, replaced by a familiar room. The Oracle's antechamber had taken shape around them.  
  
"They are fine," Jackson said. "They are ... well, human. Complicated. Certainly flawed. Not as much as others, though."  
  
"What he's trying to say is that the big guys have high standards, but not quite as high as the whole Slayer-Huntsman-Insanity thing when it's in full swing. The Scoobies are fine, Angel, don't worry. They don't get detention for touching the sacred bits."  
  
Angel looked around. The Oracle's were nowhere to be seen, but there was a large bloodstain on the ground.  
  
"What happened here?" he asked Faith and Jackson. "Doyle and Wesley were supposed to ..."  
  
"Bad things are coming, Angel. B. A lot worse than I ever was. And guess what? You guys are elected to stop them from going down. Rotten luck, eh?"  
  
"What will happen, Faith?" Buffy asked. "You said they told you all the secrets. What is going to happen?"  
  
Faith gave an apologetic shrug. "See, that's the downside of being dead. You can't tell the living everything. Not sure why, really, but that's the way it works. The good news is that you have some time left. Not a whole lot, but some."  
  
Buffy remembered another dream, one in which Faith had also had a starring role.  
  
"Counting down from 7-3-0," she muttered. "That's what you told me. A year ago."  
  
"Did I? Well, I guess the Slayer prophetic dream stuff got to me at least once. But yeah, we're still counting. We're a lot further down now, though."  
  
"One more thing," Jackson said, reminding Buffy and Angel of his presence. "Things won't be as clear from now on. The others have struck first and managed to sever the link. Or one of the links, rather. There will be others."  
  
"What British guy here is trying to say," Faith elbowed him in the side, adopting a horribly fake British accent for a moment, "is that he and I will be around. Not all the time, but we get to haunt your dreams now and then. Haunt in a good way, I mean."  
  
They started to fade from view.  
  
"Wait," Buffy yelled. "We have so many questions. What is going to happen? Can't you give us some hints at least?"  
  
"Sorry, B," Faith's voice rang out, seemingly hailing from everywhere at once. "It's almost time for dawn."  
  
#  
  
Wesley and Doyle stormed into the living room of Giles' apartment, causing five sleeping figures to come awake with a start.  
  
"Good, you are all here," Wesley said, urgency in his voice.  
  
"That was rude," Anya yawned, stretching her arms above her head. "I was dreaming that Xander and I ..."  
  
Thankfully a loud bang from above caused Anya to stop her exposition. The bang sounded remarkably like two bodies tumbling off a bed and hitting the ground.  
  
"That must be Buffy and Angel," Tara remarked, blinking herself awake. "I guess they arrived after we fell asleep."  
  
Giles, Xander, and Willow were staring at each other, barely aware of the two newcomers who had just stormed in. Something had just happened, something more than a simple dream. They remembered hearing a conversation. A conversation involving Buffy and Angel, as well as ... Faith and Jackson King?  
  
"Angel?" Doyle yelled up the stairs. "You and the princess up there, man?"  
  
A moment later the two people in question stumbled down the stairs, looking decidedly sleepy, but at the same time agitated. A brief exchange of looks with Giles, Xander, and Willow was all they needed. It had not been just a dream.  
  
"We got bad news, man," Doyle said, oblivious to the strange state of their friends. "The Oracles, they ..."  
  
"They are dead," Angel said calmly. "Yes, we know."  
  
"What? But how ..."  
  
"Strange dreams," Xander simply stated. "I always wondered how that worked, Buff, and I think I would have preferred to keep on wondering, really."  
  
Buffy shared a brief look with Angel, their hands interlacing without conscious thought.  
  
"We have a lot of work to do," Buffy said, looking at all of her gathered friends and allies. "I think we better get to it right away."  
  
#  
  
Holland Manners, Lindsey McDonald, and Lilah Morgan stood aside as the senior partner stalked toward the box, the ritual now complete. She leaned on the wooden frame, peering into one of the tiny windows with a big smile on her crimson lips.  
  
"I hope you're worth all the effort, darling. I'd really hate to be disappointed about this."  
  
Inside the box a nude woman cowered in a corner, her eyes darting back and forth with animal fear. Lilah Morgan also approached the box now, determined not to show too much fear in the presence of the senior partner. She peered in one of the other windows, an encouraging smile slipping onto her face with practiced ease.  
  
"We are so glad you are here, Darla."  
  
THE END OF YEAR ONE 


End file.
